


you know i love you, don't you?

by asterisms (sanhascroissant)



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Acceptance, Amusement Parks, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically a K-Drama, Bucket List, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Needs A Hug, Found Family, Friendship, Goodbyes, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, Idols, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inaccuracies about the Music/Kpop Industry, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mention of blood, Mentions of Death, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious, Office Party, Running Away, Self-Discovery, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Stargazing, They are SO dumb i am not playing, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanhascroissant/pseuds/asterisms
Summary: “I think it’s beautiful,” Sanha said, smiling happily. “I like the fact that there’s someone out there that shares the other half of my soul. It’s soromantic.”Bin scoffed. Eunwoo’s stomach dropped, the taste of flowers on his lips and the feeling of tears behind his eyes.
Relationships: Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin
Comments: 140
Kudos: 235





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the Astro Hanahaki AU, something I've been working on for far too long.
> 
> Before we get into it, a few disclaimers!
> 
> 1\. This is a work of fiction. I do not believe that the actions taken by any of the characters in this fic reflect the individuals that they are based on.
> 
> 2\. In this fic, there are wild inaccuracies about how idols are treated by their company, how idol groups are managed, how popular ASTRO is, and a host of other things about the "idolverse" that are just generally untrue. A lot of this fic was written before I really knew much about the Kpop Industry, so just treat this entire fic like an overly dramatic kdrama: that's pretty much what it is.
> 
> 3\. This fic is a Hanahaki AU, which means that there's a lot of heavy angst ahead. Please keep that in mind as you proceed. Please also keep in mind that I have chosen not to use Archive Warnings. This does NOT mean that no Archive Warnings apply. I will be updating tags as I add chapters.
> 
> 4\. Starting from now, I will be uploading a chapter around this time every week until the story is complete. Aside from two scenes, this story is written in its entirety.
> 
> 5\. Finally, I just want to give a massive thank you to Mel (@Tinywriterfairy both here and on twt) for betaing this mess for me! A lot of this was written a few years ago, and I'd like to believe I've improved a lot since then, so Mel has helped to salvage this enough to post. Everyone say thank you Mel!
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading! I've really enjoyed writing this fic the last few years and I'm so excited to finally share it. Please leave kudos and especially comments if you enjoyed! 
> 
> Much love,  
> Robin

_Hanahaki Disease is a very rare strain of Soul Sickness; the result of an incomplete soul bond. Soulmates are, in this era, uncommon and rarely discovered when they do exist. There is no outward sign of a soul bond forming until the later stages of a relationship. Soulmates are typically discovered over time, not immediately identified at the outset. In general, feelings must mutually develop for a soul bond to form._

_As-yet unexplained are the practically unheard-of underdeveloped, incomplete, and twisted soul bonds, all of which lead to various strains of Soul Sickness. Theories of their existence typically concern childhood trauma, extreme negative self-view (the idea that no one would want the individual in question), or opposition to the ideas of fate, soulmates, or even love itself. Another popular theory is that certain genetic mutations can form one-sided bonds. The final, most popular theory, in reference to same-sex soulmates, is that a repression of one’s sexuality bleeds into the soul bond, indirectly attempting to kill the part of themselves that they cannot deny; that is, their same-sex soulmate._

_There are shockingly low numbers of Hanahaki victims. Though it is a strain of Soul Sickness developed at the immediate formation of a soul bond, very little is known about what type of bond actually leads to the development of Hanahaki Disease. Throughout history there have been only four recorded cases, all resulting in fatalities. The most recent occurred in 1951 with the death of a young, unidentified woman. As a result, doctors and scientists are unsure if there is any cure. The lack of victims and documentation as well as the huge gap in time between them has prevented further research of the illness._

_Symptoms of Hanahaki include (but are not limited to): fatigue, an eventual severe lack of appetite, gradual weakness and aching, a breakdown of the immune system, potential cardiovascular failure, potential nerve damage, chronic pain, failure of the respiratory system, and the unexplained growth of flowers in the lungs, which are often violently coughed up by the victim and pose a severe choking hazard. Hanahaki ultimately results in death, often brought about by widespread organ failure or by an incident when the victim chokes on the flower petals coating their esophagus and perishes before all organs have shut down._

* * *

Cha Eunwoo never dreamed of being an assistant manager for a Kpop group. His dreams _had_ always been centered on the stage — on acting, rather than singing or dancing. His years in school were spent reciting lines to empty rooms and memorizing where to stand and when. 

He went to college for acting. But he also went for law in case it all fell through, in case he was left with no options.

So Eunwoo spent his first years of adulthood untangling complicated clauses of legal jargon by day and attending acting classes and play rehearsals by night. Ink would stain his hands from hastily written law notes, and then smear across the pages of his scripts as he shuffled through the pages during rehearsals. Life continued in this chaotic fashion until he graduated when, much to his surprise, he was picked up by some large production company off the streets and cast in a drama just a few months later. Eunwoo was elated.

He remembered his first day on set with almost uncanny clarity, though it happened years ago. He’d been sitting across from some gorgeous girl who was looking at him with manufactured stars in her eyes as seven separate cameras fixed themselves on his face. Early morning sunbeams streamed in through the windows, bathing the pair in warm light and making the burnished wooden table glow. The scene was supposed to be a charming meet-cute in a quaint cafe where the girl, whoever she was, worked as a barista. A typical love story. Eunwoo could act the part in his sleep. 

Except for some reason, he couldn’t. Not today, anyway. Behind the cameras, it seemed dark despite the morning sun, and the director’s eyes on Eunwoo seemed to drill into him, a furrow deep between his brows as Eunwoo missed cue after cue. Assistants with lanyards swinging from their necks and hands holding clipboards froze in their movements around the set to watch and wait, their eyes and expectations heavy on him. 

After a while, the cameramen stopped moving their cameras when the cue was given, boredom in their eyes and lips turning downwards, not even bothering to start recording anymore. Eunwoo looked down at his hands, folded neatly on the table, ashamed. The back of his neck flushed red.

The director called for a break, and the loving smile fell off the girl’s face. She frowned, pushed up from the chair, and walked away without a word to him. Eunwoo apologized to anyone who was listening, got up from the table, and fled. 

Over the next few months, he tried to become less camera shy, but it was no use. In acting classes, in front of audiences, and by himself, Eunwoo was a beautiful actor, and played his part flawlessly. But in front of the cameras he simply couldn’t say a word. 

The weeks passed, and Eunwoo felt more and more discouraged. He was holding production back, and this problem was not one that could be resolved in a timely manner, so he did the responsible thing. He walked into the director’s office and gave him a letter of resignation, the small typed letters making him feel small as he was forced to hand over his opportunity to fulfill his lifelong dream. He stared at the man’s expensive wooden desk and plaque bearing his name in gilt gold letters as he issued half-hearted pleas to have Eunwoo stay on.

“Cha Eunwoo, you are the most dedicated man I’ve ever met, and the most talented actor by far. If you ever need a recommendation, I am happy to give you one.” 

Eunwoo gave a sad smile, thanked the man, and then left, closing the door softly behind him.

He had assumed that that was the end of that. A few months later, Eunwoo was living with a few roommates and getting by. He’d ventured into law — he might as well use the degree that had cost him so much money — and besides, wasn't it there as a back up anyway?

His days settled into a perpetual routine. He woke at 6:00am every day, made coffee for himself, got dressed, and went to work, buying a coffee for his boss on the way there as he was instructed to do. Then he spent his hours diligently working as an intern at a reputable law firm, fingers clicking on keys and shuffling and sorting papers into files. He’d return home, change into something more comfortable than a suit, and then hang out watching dramas, reading books, or sharing impersonal conversation with his roommates. It was a good system. It worked well.

And then he got the call. 

It was a late spring afternoon when it arrived, and his roommate handed it over with a look of sheer bewilderment. Eunwoo lounged across their couch, which was old and battered and had one too many stains, as he ate popcorn and watched a drama. He’d held the landline to his ear and said, “Hello?”

 _“Ah! Hello, is this Cha Eunwoo?”_ A voice bubbled across the line. Eunwoo found his mouth curving into a small smile just at the sound.

“Yes, this is him. And you are?”

 _“I’m Kim Myungjun with Fantagio Entertainment. We got your number from a past employer of yours from Cube.”_ Eunwoo raised his eyebrows.

“I did work there for a short time, though I have no idea why he would contact you. Things with that job just…” Eunwoo swallowed, fiddling with the hem of his shirt before continuing. “It wasn't a good fit for me, in the end.”

“ _I completely understand, sir,_ ” Myungjun assured him. “ _I_ _am aware that you were there under an acting contract, but we are actually contacting you in regards to a management position we currently have open, working with a rookie idol group that’s preparing for debut_.”

Eunwoo was taken aback to say the least. He stopped fiddling with his shirt and pushed himself up to sitting, swinging his legs onto the ground and pausing to run a hand through his hair.

“I’m — _what?_ Why me?” Eunwoo asked. “I have no management experience and now you want to give me a position based on a single recommendation, which, by the way, _is not even for management?”_

 _“Well, the recommendation you received was for your self-discipline, hardworking nature, and organization. Your past director mentioned that you were a very organized man. And we looked into it and you have a law degree, which definitely counts for something. The position we would be offering is assistant manager to an up and coming boy group, ASTRO. They’re very good. I’m their manager, I’d know.”_ Myungjun let out a bubbly laugh. _“But the problem is, I simply don’t have any other candidates for the job. And when I asked your past director, who is closely associated with us at Fantagio, he said you were the best man for it. So will you consider it?_ ”

Eunwoo hesitated and his eyes flickered to the drama playing out on the screen in front of him. The main character was crying in the rain, her hair plastered to her face as she sobbed; her love interest reached out and begged her to take a chance on him. Eunwoo felt a surge of spontaneity.

“Certainly. When’s the interview?”

And so, just a few days later, Eunwoo found himself outside of Fantagio’s doors with a resume in the bag slung over his shoulder. He smoothed down his coat and pushed the doors open. He found himself in a nondescript foyer with a secretary and guard who blocked his way to the door which, he presumed, led to the actual company.

“Ah, hello. I’m Cha Eunwoo? I have an appointment with Kim Myungjun?” The guard surveyed him. 

“Yeah, sounds about right,” the secretary said, looking bored. She threw a look toward the guard and he stepped aside, gesturing for Eunwoo to enter. “Good luck though, you must be the tenth or eleventh person this month that MJ’s asked. None of them were…” She paused and pursed her lips, searching for the right word. “ _Qualified_.” Eunwoo didn’t really respond to that comment, just a slight raise of both eyebrows. Surely this group wasn’t that difficult?

He was proven wrong the moment he stepped inside. He was slammed into at full force. Eunwoo stood his ground. He had significantly less luck when two others slammed into him as well. It seemed that the kid who had first run into him had been running away from two others that hadn’t had time to stop and had subsequently body-slammed him. Eunwoo barely caught himself, but managed to straighten.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? God, I’ve probably killed you, MJ hyung is going to kill _me_. I’m too young to die! You’re too young to die! I’m so so so so sorry, gosh, I promise I’ll be careful from now on. I’m a disgrace —” Eunwoo simply listened, extremely amused, as the boy, who sported artfully curled red hair and a baseball cap, blushed and rambled.

“Yoon Sanha!” Another boy spoke up. “Stop talking the poor man’s ear off. He’s got places to be, I’m sure. Besides, we’re here waiting for Cha Eunwoo and you know that MJ will kill us all if we scare him off before he’s even tried for the job.” He turned to Eunwoo. “I’m very sorry for our youngest’s behavior. I’m Park Jinwoo, the leader of ASTRO.” He bowed and upon straightening, held out his hand.

Eunwoo adjusted his bag’s strap and grasped Jinwoo’s hand, finally letting an amused smile seep through.

“Delighted to meet you, Park Jinwoo. And as for scaring me off, I grew up with a wild child of a younger brother. It would take a lot more than that to do it.” Eunwoo watched as Jinwoo blanched at his words.

“You mean, you’re Cha Eunwoo?” He sounded shocked. Eunwoo nodded. “Oh my god, I thought you were some kind of model or something. MJ really _is_ going to kill us,” Jinwoo breathed. 

Eunwoo laughed and finally took in the boys in front of him. Yoon Sanha was a beanpole, but he looked so much younger than the other two. He had an innocent air to him, and his styling perfectly fit the cutesy maknae stereotype that was in fashion these days, so Eunwoo assumed that was his role in the group.

Jinwoo was shorter than Sanha, but he was far more intimidating. His hair was bleached blond, except for a single strip of blue at the front (if he got the job, Eunwoo was going to have a chat with the stylists about that because honestly, _why_ ). 

Finally, he looked to the other boy with them. He was silent and calm, surveying Eunwoo in a way that made him feel unnerved, as though he could see every evil thought and dark desire Eunwoo had ever had, no matter how fleeting. His gaze was calculating as he pushed dusty brown hair out of his face. Simply from the way he held himself, Eunwoo could tell that this guy was a dancer, and an experienced one. He’d worked with dancers in college and they’d all shared the same graceful way of standing, as though dance was so ingrained into them that it came naturally, even when they were paying no attention whatsoever.

“Anyway,” Jinwoo said, gesturing to the unnamed boy. “That’s Rocky, that’s Sanha, and again, I’m Jinwoo. There’s also Moon Bin, but god knows where that boy is now.” He shook his head. “Thanks for even volunteering to come and interview, we really desperately need an assistant manager.” Jinwoo led him out of the room, presumably to where Myungjun was waiting.

Eunwoo waved goodbye to Sanha and Rocky. Sanha returned the gesture enthusiastically, rocking back and forth on his feet, but Rocky simply raised a hand in farewell. His name truly suited him: He seemed to be cold and stoic, a strong foundation. Just like a rock.

“He does kind of seem like that at first, you’re right,” Jinwoo said, and Eunwoo realized with a start that he’d voiced his thoughts about Rocky out loud. “But once he warms up to you he’s nothing like that at all. He only ran straight into you because he was offended that Sanha seemed to be looking at him strangely, so he chased him. All Sanha had been doing was trying to see around his head to the clock on the wall, for goodness sake. He’s actually ridiculous.” Jinwoo snorted.

Eunwoo made a noncommittal sound, humming as his and Jinwoo’s footsteps echoed in the hallway. Stylists with bags overflowing with beauty products, managers and interns carrying coffee and clipboards, and two or three well-dressed girls who had to be trainees or idols rushed past on either side.

Jinwoo stopped and pulled open a door made of frosted glass that read _ASTRO_ , and under it in smaller letters, _Kim Myungjun_. He gestured for Eunwoo to enter ahead of him, and so he did, glancing around as he entered.

The office space was quite organized. They had nice windows, which Eunwoo appreciated. More management staff sat around plastic tables and chairs, with various papers and water bottles spread across them as well as a pair of used wooden chopsticks, presumably left over from someone’s lunch break. They spoke hurriedly, scanning their pages and making notes, busy at work. Four desks were situated near one side of the room. They all appeared personalized, with photos pinned on cork boards, little knick knacks scattered on the flat tops, and even a few small plants on one. 

“Oh, those are Bin’s,” Jinwoo said. “We think it’s because he misses his pets and wants some kind of living creature to be dependent on him.” Jinwoo seemed to find it amusing. Eunwoo just smiled. It was kind of endearing, actually. He himself kept a plant on his desk at the law firm. 

“Finally, there’s MJ’s, and hopefully your, office.” He gave a grand gesture towards it, giving Eunwoo one last grin. “I’ll see you around. Good luck, I hope you get the job. You may have heard, but we’re desperate for an assistant manager.”

Eunwoo shifted his gaze from the office door to Jinwoo. “I have, actually. From Myungjun, from the guard, and now from you. I’ve been thoroughly informed that the bar I have to meet is quite low.” 

“It is,” Jinwoo agreed readily. “It’s not like we’re horrible, we’re just kind of loud.” He shifted his gaze away from Eunwoo’s, looking mildly embarrassed. 

“I have a lot of experience with kids of that personality.” Eunwoo beamed back at him. “Maybe this will be a dream job.” 

“I feel bad for you if dealing with five screaming kids is your dream job.” Jinwoo raised an eyebrow.

“I thought there were only four members of ASTRO?” Eunwoo’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head to the side just slightly. 

“Don’t forget MJ,” Jinwoo said, his voice deadly serious. “He’s probably the craziest of all of us.” Eunwoo didn’t really know how to react to such an ominous statement, but he didn’t have to — Jinwoo turned and left without a word.

Shrugging, Eunwoo turned and faced the door. He took a deep breath and carefully reached out to turn the doorknob. 

Before he could do so, the door swung open by itself, revealing a man, his smile stretched wide across his face. He was clearly exceedingly young for the position, like Eunwoo himself, which offered some small amount of comfort. He smiled brightly and took Eunwoo’s hand, which was still outstretched towards the door, vigorously shaking it. 

“You must be Cha Eunwoo!” He pumped Eunwoo’s arm up and down. Eunwoo just stood there, a bit bewildered by the man’s friendliness considering they’d only just met. “I’m Kim Myungjun, but you can call me MJ!” 

Eunwoo blinked.“Ah, of course. I’m Cha Eunwoo, but I’m sure you knew that already,” he said quickly, retracting his hand and giving MJ a small smile. “I’m honored you thought to interview me for this position.”

MJ beamed, and Eunwoo almost wanted to look away, it was so bright. “Of course, of course! I’ve heard such great things. Why don’t you come on in?” He stepped back and lifted a hand to usher Eunwoo into his office, smile never faltering. Eunwoo stepped inside.

It was a lovely space, bright light streaming in through the small window, and colorful armchairs in the corner. It had two desks, one pushed off to the side and clearly unoccupied, covered in a fine layer of dust. MJ sat down behind the larger desk and folded his hands as Eunwoo sat across from him. 

“I don’t really see much of a point in asking why you’d want this job seeing as we were the ones to reach out to you,” MJ began, leaning forward slightly and tilted his head to make direct eye contact. “So instead I’ll ask if you can see yourself in this job.”

“In all honesty, I don’t really know what this job is, sir,” Eunwoo said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “So some kind of rundown of my responsibilities may help me answer your question.”

MJ leaned back. “Oh gosh, don’t be so formal! Calling me sir makes me feel old.” He beamed at Eunwoo before continuing. “As for your responsibilities, you’d mainly be in charge of schedule and organization. I also heard that you’re fluent in English, is that true?” Eunwoo nodded. “Cool. We’d probably use that a lot. You’d also work with the members, keeping them on task.” MJ grinned. “Basically, you and I are a team, but you’re on the ground running — you go with them to events, photoshoots, their practices, filming times, and so on so forth. I’m busy planning said events, photoshoots, practices, and filming times.” 

MJ leaned back, hands behind his head. His smile faded into something more serious, and he said “It’s hard work, with pretty long hours. Are you willing to try?”

Eunwoo considered the proposal. It would be difficult, sure, but he’d be involved in something much more interesting than anything he had been doing at his law office. He also knew this industry well enough to know he was starting incredibly high up for someone with so little experience. It was a really good deal. What did he have to lose?

“Alright,” Eunwoo said, only a little hesitant. “I’ll try it out.”

He and MJ shook hands, and Eunwoo walked out of the building with a friendly wave to Sanha, Rocky, and Jinwoo and promises to see them on Monday. 


	2. Chapter 2

Monday morning brought a new routine. Eunwoo woke up at 5:00am, a whole hour earlier than he used to. He made coffee for himself, got dressed, and started towards Fantagio’s dormitories. He arrived by 5:15, pulling the door open and punching in the code. 

The door beeped softly and swung open, soft morning light falling into the hallway as Eunwoo slipped off his shoes and padded down the hall in search of the kitchen. After finding it, he placed a pan on the stove, and after rummaging through the refrigerator, cracked an egg into it. He turned on the coffee machine and by 5:30 the food and coffee were done and plated. He cleaned up the pan, leaving the four plates and mugs on the table. After surveying his handiwork, he smiled. 

It occurred to Eunwoo that there was one member he still had not met — Moon Bin. Frowning, he made his way down the hall, wondering what Moon Bin was like. Tall, short, loud, quiet, smiley, stoic? Who knew? Not Eunwoo.

Before he knew it he found himself outside a door with a sign that read _“Sanha and Minhyuk!!! Knock pls”_ in childish handwriting. Eunwoo smiled softly at the letters and opened the door. 

The room was silent except for Sanha’s gentle breathing. Rocky, it seemed, was as quiet when unconscious as he was when conscious. He lay motionless on the bottom bunk, flat on his back, mouth open and hair splayed across the pillow. Sanha hung off the top bunk, an arm dangling into Rocky’s space, face pressed up against the wooden bar that kept him from falling off the top. His breath pushed his hair gently back and forth as he snored softly. The bleached red-orange locks glowed in the lighting. 

It broke Eunwoo’s heart a little to disturb them. He moved over to Sanha and rubbed his arm. “Sanha, wake up. You need to get up.” 

Sanha groaned slightly and turned onto his back, pulling up his arm as his eyes fluttered open. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Eunwoo hyung…?” Sanha’s voice was raspy and quiet with sleep as he gazed down at Eunwoo. “Is it already morning?”

Eunwoo nodded. Sanha groaned louder, more purposeful this time. “Oh, don’t be like that,” Eunwoo chided him. “I made breakfast. It’s in the kitchen.” Sanha did seem to brighten up at that, and his eyes seemed more awake, so Eunwoo felt secure enough to move on to Rocky.

He kneeled and placed a hand on Rocky’s shoulder. Rocky seemed to wake immediately, eyes opening to look over at Eunwoo. Eunwoo smiled in response. “There’s food on the kitchen table,” he said gently. “I’ll see you both out there in 15 minutes, tops. You had better not make me come back in here,” he chided jokingly, but underneath it his tone held an air of seriousness. 

He retreated from the room. That went pretty well, all things considered. He moved down the hall to the second room, his socked feet slipping a bit more than he expected against the hardwood floor. 

The second door had a more straightforward sign “ _Jinwoo and Moonbin_ ” in carefully written letters. Underneath, someone had jotted down “ _jinjin and binnie!”_ Eunwoo’s mouth twitched at the added nicknames as he pushed the door open. 

On the top bunk, Jinwoo was surprisingly already awake, though it seemed this was a recent development. 

“Light sleeper,” he explained immediately, answering Eunwoo’s questioning gaze. “I heard you coming down the hallway. Good luck with Bin, by the way. He’s the deepest sleeper of us all.” 

Finally, Eunwoo turned to look at the elusive Moon Bin. There wasn’t much to see; his covers were pulled nearly all the way over his head, only dark tufts of hair visible against the crisp white bed sheets. Eunwoo sighed, brow furrowing.

“How am I going to go about this?” He mused. Jinwoo shrugged, looking honestly at a loss, his hands twisted into his own covers.

“Oh, yeah, there’s some eggs in the kitchen if you want,” Eunwoo commented absently, still focused on what to do about Moon Bin. “Also if you could see how Sanha and Rocky are getting along, that’d be great.” Jinwoo nodded and swung down from the bed, giving Eunwoo a final “good luck” before heading out the door and down the hall to the kitchen.

Eunwoo approached the bed and reached to shake Moon Bin gently. “Um, hello?” His voice was awkward and he stayed as far away as physically possible. “Hello?” 

A few more moments passed and Moon Bin showed no signs of movement. Eunwoo frowned. He inched closer, shaking a bit more. “Hello, Moon Bin. It’s time to get up.” When the shaking failed to do anything, Eunwoo inched closer and closer still, and got louder and louder. “Moon Bin! Wake up! You have practice soon!” Eunwoo raised his voice in frustration, yet the boy still didn’t stir, apart from a tiny groan as he retreated further under the covers. 

Eunwoo stepped back. “That’s it. You are getting up, _right now_.” With no hesitation or guilt, Eunwoo seized the duvet covering Moon Bin and, in one swift movement, pulled it from the bed. Moon Bin’s hands made sluggish grabs for it, but in his current state of awareness, there wasn’t really anything he could do. 

Eunwoo stood back in triumph, a small smirk on his face, the duvet firmly in his grasp where he stood standing several feet away from the bed. Bin groaned loudly, and blinked blearily in Eunwoo’s general direction. Eunwoo finally got a good look at his face.

It was a good face. With angular eyes and thin lips accompanied by high cheekbones, it was the prettiest face he’d seen a long time. The smile faded from his lips and the triumphant pose fell from his shoulders as he stared at Moon Bin. Moon Bin was _gorgeous._

Moon Bin squinted up at him, the light shining in his eyes. “Why is there an angel in my room?” He asked innocently, voice thick with sleep. Eunwoo’s cheeks flushed.

“Ah, I — I’m not an angel. I’m your new assistant manager, Cha Eunwoo …” 

It wasn’t that Eunwoo was unaware that he was attractive — he knew he was; it was a big reason why he was noticed on the street so long ago. But to hear someone as ethereally beautiful as Moon Bin call him, Cha Eunwoo, an angel? It was shocking. Flattering, definitely, Eunwoo couldn’t take it so early in the morning. 

“Food’s in the kitchen,” he blurted. Moon Bin sat up slowly, blinking. Eunwoo left, dropping the duvet and shutting the door behind him as quickly as possible. _Smooth._ He groaned and covered his face with his hands as he re-entered the kitchen. 

He dragged his palm down his face and blinked, refocusing on the scene in front of him. Sanha and Rocky sat frozen at the table, fork halfway to Rocky’s mouth, Sanha mid-chew. Jinwoo leaned against the counter with a cup of water, looking skeptical. Eunwoo frowned.

“What?” he asked. Sanha and Rocky unfroze to look at each other. Jinwoo frowned and leaned forward.

“There is _no way_ Moon Bin is already fully awake,” he said, disbelief coloring his tone. Eunwoo blinked.

“Well, he was sitting up…” Eunwoo said uncertainly, looking at Rocky and Sanha. They looked back blankly, Sanha’s mouth open in shock.

“That’s impressive, Eunwoo. Really impressive.” Jinwoo walked over, clapping Eunwoo on the shoulder. 

“Wow. I mean, just wow. You’re the only person who’s been so successful so quickly,” Sanha breathed. Rocky nodded vigorously. “Bin is the worst at waking up. It’s the only thing I think he’s truly bad at.” 

You’re something else, Cha Eunwoo.” Rocky shook his head and gave a small smile.

“What are you all talking about?” Moon Bin’s voice echoed through the kitchen. Eunwoo jumped, turning around to find him in the doorway, still wearing pajamas, his hair disheveled.

“And that’s a new dorm record,” Jinwoo said, checking the time on his phone. “Eunwoo, Rocky took the words right out of my mouth.” 

Moon Bin pouted, clearly still confused. “What?” He squinted at Eunwoo. Apparently he’d forgotten his talk with Eunwoo just moments ago, which Eunwoo was more than fine with. It had been terribly embarrassing. “Oh, you’re the new manager, Cha Eunwoo, right?” 

Suddenly, Eunwoo couldn’t swallow properly. He cleared his throat, and said, as calmly as possible, “Yes, that’s right. I’m Eunwoo.” 

Moon Bin smiled, and the room seemed to brighten. “Cool.” He grabbed a plate of eggs and flopped down at the kitchen table next to Rocky and Sanha. The next few moments were filled with the sounds of eating: forks scraping against plates, chewing, and the occasional murmur of satisfaction. Finally, Eunwoo spoke.

“Anyway, now that I have you all here, I’ll run through your schedule,” He kept his tone businesslike as he pulled the schedule MJ had given him from his bag on the counter. “This one’s from Myungjun, but after the rest of this week I’ll be organizing your schedules, so you can all talk about schedule changes with me, rather than MJ. He wanted to be especially clear about that because he said, and I quote, “I’m tired of their drama. That’s your job now.” So I suggest you just talk directly to me.” Eunwoo paused to check that they were all listening before continuing. Four sets of eyes met his without hesitation. He flicked his gaze back down to his paper. “Right, so first up we have a team meeting written down. MJ has written “talk about Bin’s problem with authority” next to this, so I suppose we can discuss that.” Rocky snickered and Bin groaned loudly. 

“It’s not a problem, it’s just being cautious!” Bin protested. 

“More like being _paranoid_ ,” Sanha muttered, taking another bite of egg.

“We’ve had ten different assistant managers in the past month, Bin, none of whom were incompetent. I’d say it’s a problem.” Rocky sniffed. “You’d better not scare Eunwoo away, we like him. He can get you up without screaming.” 

Bin sputtered. Eunwoo continued over him. “Then you all have practice from 8:00 to 10:00 on individual things — Rocky and Sanha, voice, and Bin and Jinwoo, dance. Then you have a really short break from 12:00 to 12:15 for lunch, and then you switch, so Bin and Jinwoo are working voice and Rocky and Sanha are working dance until 2:00. Then from 2:00 to 4:00 you have group practice.” Eunwoo. “My gosh, you guys are busy.” 

Sanha sighed. “Tell me about it.”

“Anyway … Then it looks like Jinwoo, you have an interview to go to at 5:00, which leaves me with you three. Rocky, they have slated a producing session working on your album, Sanha, you have time for guitar, and Bin, you’ve got acting lessons.” Eunwoo paused at _acting lessons_. “Nice. I love acting. Then —”

“Wait, what?” Bin interrupted. “You like acting?”

“Oh, yes.” Eunwoo smiled. “I’m actually an actor.” The boys look at each other then at him, confusion clear on their faces.

“Um, no you aren’t,” Sanha said. “You’re our manager!” He smiled brightly.

“I am _now_ ,” Eunwoo smiled back at him. “But I was originally an actor. I still act sometimes, I’ll have you know. Have you seen that one drama, the coffee shop one?”

They nodded excitedly, Sanha especially. Eunwoo beamed. “Well, I was supposed to be in that. If you look back at old promotions for it, you’ll see me in them, not the current lead. The director is actually the one who recommended me to Myungjun.”

“What? No way,” Bin says. “Why would you leave such a successful production?” Eunwoo stopped smiling, but managed to maintain a neutral expression, swallowing down the hurtful memories.

“Bin,” hissed Rocky. “You have no sense of tact.”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Eunwoo waved Rocky’s concern aside. “I have a deathly fear of being on camera, as it turns out.” The member’s faces fell. He just smiled and waved it away. “Oh please, that’s old news. I can still act live, don’t look so upset. And if I could be off doing dramas, I would have never met you, and then who would suffer through waking Bin up every morning?” 

The others snickered at Bin, who whined, covering his face in his hands. When he recovered, he looked up at Eunwoo.

“It makes sense though, you acting.” 

“What makes you say that?” Eunwoo asked, tilting his head. 

“Um, it’s just…” Moon Bin looked him up and down. Eunwoo fought back a blush. “You look — I mean,” he quickly reconsidered what he was going to say, and then said “All your emotions seem controlled. So it makes sense.” He cast his eyes down to the table. Eunwoo’s lips parted in surprise as he looked at Moon Bin.

Rocky, Sanha, and Jinwoo shared meaningful glances. Eunwoo shook his head slightly and blinked before responding. 

“I’m not certain whether that was a compliment or not, but I’ll take it as one. Thank you.” He flipped over the schedule in his hand. “Okay. Finally, you all have dinner at 9:00, and then at 9:30 you join Rocky on production. At 10:30 we head back here to the dorm and you all go to sleep.” Eunwoo put down the paper and clapped his hands together. “Now, that’s today. I’ll be around for most of it so if you need anything, just come get me and ask, and I’ll see what I can do. If for some reason I’m not around, my number should be in your phones already, courtesy of MJ, so just text me, or if it’s really urgent, call. Let’s get going. We’re leaving in,” he checked his watch, “ten minutes. You had all better be ready.”

The next ten minutes were a flurry of movement, the others getting dressed as Eunwoo and Jinwoo (who had had the foresight to get dressed before breakfast) did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. The members stumbled out the door, slinging bags over their shoulders and pulling on shoes as Eunwoo followed behind them calmly, coat already buttoned, his bag secure on his shoulder. He locked the door and they began the short walk to Fantagio’s main building. 

Once they arrived, ASTRO rushed ahead of Eunwoo to their different practices while he waved hello to the guard from yesterday, who nodded in greeting. Eunwoo smiled and headed through the busy hallways towards his office. 

He pulled the door open and MJ looked up from his papers, beaming. 

“Hey, Eunwoo!” He grinned. Eunwoo smiled gently back as he placed his bag on the second desk, and shrugged his coat off onto his chair.

“Hey, MJ.” He sank into his chair and pulled out the schedules for the upcoming week. They spent the next few hours in comfortable silence. Eunwoo reorganized the schedule meticulously, as though he was putting together the pieces of an extremely complicated jigsaw puzzle. MJ made phone call after phone call, marking notes down and then passing them to Eunwoo to sort through.

At 9:30, Eunwoo leaned back and stretched, checking the clock. He stood up, pulling his coat onto his shoulders. 

“I’m going to go remind ASTRO to switch their practices. Do you want me to grab any food or anything afterward?” MJ looked up from his work. 

“Ah, if you could get me a pastry and a coffee, that would be great,” MJ said, a wistful look on his face. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a pastry.” 

Eunwoo grinned.“Sure. I’ll be back soon.” 

He set off through the office, passing through the foyer and into the practice rooms. He first spoke to Bin and Jinwoo, who were working with a choreographer in the main room. Then he spoke to Rocky and Sanha with their voice coach. Satisfied that he’d given a sufficient reminder, he went to retrieve MJ’s pastry and coffee.

The rest of the day passed without incident. MJ groaned in satisfaction when he bit into the pastry. Eunwoo hid a laugh behind his hand. MJ planned what seemed like another 20 events for the next month, and Eunwoo had a basic preliminary schedule for the rest of the week. Before he knew it, 5:00 rolled around. Jinwoo stopped by, makeup all done, to let them know that he was headed out for the interview, accompanied by multiple stylists and assistants.

“Usually you’d go with him, Eunwoo, but I need your English skills right now,” MJ explained. And so Eunwoo spent the next twenty minutes trying to convince a man from China to give them an interview as neither spoke their first languages. Despite that, they seemed to come to a consensus. 

Just as he was finishing up the phone call, Bin stepped into the office. Eunwoo met his gaze, still talking in rapid-fire English. Bin looked mildly caught off-guard, gaze shifting awkwardly around the room as he hovered in the doorway, as though unsure as to how to proceed. Eunwoo smiled encouragingly at him through his words and gestured for him to sit. Bin sank into a seat across from Eunwoo and waited patiently. 

Finally the call ended and Eunwoo set the phone down with a soft click. Then he looked up at Bin genially, his gentle smile fixed in place just where it always was.

“What can I do for you, Bin?” Bin bit his lip as though he was worried about saying what he came to say.

“My acting coach is missing,” he said softly. “She didn’t show up for some reason. I’m kind of worried, actually — she’s never missed a lesson.”

Eunwoo’s brow furrowed at that. 

“That’s certainly odd,” he said, concern for the teacher beginning to gather in the pit of his stomach. He spun his chair and pulled down a staff directory. Flipping through it, he came to the section for the coaches. He scanned the page, searching for the acting coaches. He got her name from Bin and found her number. 

He punched it in and called. She picked up on the sixth ring. After a short conversation, Eunwoo hung up. He turned to Bin, who was watching eagerly with wide eyes.

“She’s okay,” Eunwoo said. Bin relaxed, and slumped down in his chair. “She’s just got a cold, and she forgot to call in sick.”

“Oh, good.” Bin seemed very relieved. “I’m really glad she’s alright.” Silence fell over the pair. Bin sort of squirmed in his seat as Eunwoo just smiled through the pain.

After a long moment, Bin straightened and said, “Oh. I don’t have a coach today for acting. What should I do for the next few hours?” Eunwoo frowned slightly and twisted his mouth. Suddenly he hit himself in the face with his palm. Bin jumped.

“Of course! The answer is obvious,” Eunwoo said, finally looking at Bin. “ _I’m_ an actor. I’ll stand in as your coach, just for today.”

Bin looked a bit surprised, his mouth open just the slightest bit. He blinked. “I mean, are — are you sure?” He stuttered slightly. “I’m really bad at acting, I don’t want to inconvenience you…” He babbered on, gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. Eunwoo smiled wider, shaking his head as he laughed.

“Bin, trust me. It’ll be fine.”

And so they found themselves alone in a practice room, Bin shuffling his feet as Eunwoo set his bag down next to the only chair. He sat and crossed his legs. Once he was comfortable, he smiled up at Bin, who just seemed to get more nervous, twisting his fingers together. 

“So, I see you guys are working on a drama: _To Be Continued_ , right?” Bin nodded enthusiastically. “That’s an interesting way to introduce you to the public. What’s your character like?”

“Well, I’m a lot tougher in this than real life,” Bin admitted, grinning sheepishly, scratching his neck. “ _To Be Continued_ ’s Moon Bin is edgy, and rides a motorcycle, but he does have a soft side which is shown through his romantic arc with Ah Rin. But really, we aren’t that much alike, so I have a lot of trouble playing him. Hence the acting lessons.” Moon Bin gestured vaguely around the room. Eunwoo nodded and looked to the script. 

“Well, let’s try reading a scene. I’ll be Ah Rin, you be yourself. Eleventh episode, thirteenth scene.” Moon Bin nodded and flipped to his script to the scene Eunwoo was referencing.

“Okay,” he said, nodding slightly, his eyes focused on the script. “I know this one pretty well.” 

Eunwoo smiled encouragingly. “Okay, whenever you’re ready, go ahead.” Bin took a deep breath. His gaze flicked to Eunwoo, who was still smiling encouragingly. He gave a single bob of the head, and Bin began to speak.

“What are we like in the future?” he asked, looking right past Eunwoo. He paused, and then continued, locking gazes with Eunwoo. “You and I?” 

“It’s a secret,” Eunwoo replied, a stoic smile on his face, his tone unwavering.

“Come on,” Bin said, whining a bit as he pouted, crossing his arms at Eunwoo. “You’re going to start keeping secrets between us.” 

Eunwoo paused, then said, “It’s the same. The same as it is right now.”

Bin, to his credit, reacted immediately, his face visibly falling in disappointment. His gaze fell from Eunwoo’s face to his feet. “All right,” he said. He sounded truly heartbroken. He looked up, a shred of hope in his eyes. “If I become disappointed now, will our future change?”

Eunwoo frowned, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean, disappointed?” He added a shade of alarm into his voice. Bin was still drooping, his eyes sad. 

“Gosh, I guess I got rejected,” he said, resignation coloring his tone. He looked up towards the ceiling, as though he wasn’t speaking to Eunwoo, but to the sky; as though to hide his embarrassment and heartache. “I was going to wait until I was 20 and tell you that I wanted to be more than friends, and go out with you.” 

Eunwoo let a small laugh fall from his lips. Bin’s gaze snapped down to meet his. “Why are you laughing?” He demanded, though there was a hint of amusement there, of camaraderie and friendship. “I really got rejected?”

“No, no,” Eunwoo laughed, eyes closing as he did. Then he sobered up and refocused on Bin. “You never confessed your feelings to me.” He paused, and when he continued his voice had grown more serious still. “You’re better off confessing them to Yeo Reum first,” he suggested, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Huh, what does that mean?” Bin asked, genuine confusion marring his features as he leaned slightly away from Eunwoo in faux surprise.

“Just…” Eunwoo trailed off. He tilted his head, letting the silence hover for a moment. “Things that are bound to happen will happen.” He beamed at Bin, who maintained the confused expression for a moment longer before letting it fall.

“How was that?”

Eunwoo found himself a bit at a loss for words. The room was so small. The walls seemed to close in on Eunwoo, making the whole scene more intimate than it should have been, making Moon Bin seem so much closer to him than he really was. He’d gotten far more immersed in the role than he’d expected. He gave himself a tiny shake and smiled at Bin.

“It was very, very good actually,” he said finally, standing up. “Now, there’s one part, where you’re asking about whether you were rejected or not, that I feel you could improve your stance for.” Bin nodded, and Eunwoo explained further. 

“Your gaze is good, low and sad, but acting can’t be done with just the face — if you were to act with only your face, your body would give you away. So, you need to stand more brokenly. Less tall. It’s like both your ankles have been sprained but you still have to stand because there’s no chair to sit in.”

Bin tried, but it was awkward — his alignment was off. Eunwoo shook his head. Bin tried again, but it had been better the first time, before Eunwoo had said anything. Eunwoo surveyed Bin, biting one of his nails as he thought.

“No, like this.” He reached out to place his hand on Bin’s shoulders. Bin started. Eunwoo felt the soft warmth of his skin through his t-shirt. He eased Bin’s shoulders down to a more defeated position. He placed his hands carefully on Bin’s hips and gently moved them to the right place and finally, it was right. He backed up and examined the pose.

“Perfect,” he said, satisfied, but stopped short when he saw that Bin’s face was bright red. Why would it be —

Oh.

He did just kind of put his hands directly on Bin’s hips without permission and moved them. Eunwoo swallowed hard, internally cringing. He had made a terrible mistake, far overstepped his boundaries. He had to pick one of two options: address it and apologize, or ignore it and desperately hope that Moon Bin didn’t call him out or call HR and get him fired for unwanted physical contact. Dear god. 

Eunwoo wallowed in his shame for a moment. “Um, anyway,” he said, pushing a blush down himself. “That looks much better. Now if we could run through this again with blocking…” 

Luckily for Eunwoo’s new career, Bin seemed to move on pretty quickly too, and they had a fairly productive lesson. Moon Bin was not bad at acting as he claimed — in fact, he was _phenomenal_. Later, as he looked over the member’s profiles, Eunwoo would discover that Moon Bin actually acted as a child in a few successful productions, so it was very odd that he claimed to be bad at acting. A confidence problem, maybe. 

They ran through another, more lighthearted scene, and they had to stop when Bin couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. It spilled from his mouth and filled the room, bubbling against Eunwoo’s skin, making him feel so lighthearted that he couldn’t help but laugh along.

“I like it when you laugh like that,” Bin had said once they’d calmed down. “Most of the time I can’t read you, you’re too controlled and quiet. But just for a moment I could tell you really felt at ease.” He met Eunwoo’s gaze with a soft smile. “It was nice.”

Later, he took ASTRO home. Their bright chatter flew from their mouths with warm breaths that turned to frost in the night air, words spiraling up to the dome of the sky. They were all relaxed —even Rocky — after a long day of work. They came home and flopped around on the couch, groaning about the tiredness in their bones and muscles. They scrolled through their fancafe as Eunwoo made dinner with Sanha as a willing assistant. 

They ate together, conversation never slow. Everyone thanked Eunwoo for dinner, and when Bin complimented him through a full mouthful of the simple chicken he’d made, Eunwoo smiled brightly, barely holding back. 

After dinner, the members were having trouble keeping their eyes open, so Eunwoo confiscated their phones and gently pushed them off to bed. The house quieted as Eunwoo cleared the last remnants of dinner, wiped down the counters, put the last dishes in the dishwasher, and pushed the chairs around the kitchen table in. 

Eunwoo walked to the door, carefully slipping on his shoes. He stood and slung his bag over his shoulder. He glanced down the hallway one more time. Soft moonlight filtered through the skylight in the hall, and Eunwoo could see a few stars, despite the light pollution of Seoul. He smiled softly and left the apartment, shutting the door with a soft click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> Huge shoutout again to Mel (Tinywriterfairy on ao3 and twt) for betaing! Stay tuned next week for some family bonding time!
> 
> Thank you again for reading! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Let me know!
> 
> -Robin  
> (@sanhascroissant on twt)


	3. Chapter 3

The schedule remained intact for months. Eunwoo would arrive, make breakfast, wake everyone up, and rush them to rehearsal. He spent hours organizing schedules, rushing about to do errands, and occasionally putting his English to good use. He became closer with all the members, particularly Rocky. It was a bit of a surprise to Eunwoo that he and Rocky became so close, but after some consideration, it made perfect sense.

To most, Eunwoo and Rocky were a formidable pair — stoic and unreadable in their silence and judgements. Yet in truth, they were much warmer, particularly with those they cared for. They were kindred spirits, in a sense. 

Rocky was a certain brand of crazy when he wasn’t being cold, a kind of “this could kill us, but yolo” crazy, which Eunwoo couldn’t relate to, but he could definitely appreciate. That being said, it was kind of a hassle for him to deal with sometimes. Eunwoo had a stressful time when he tried to find Rocky once, but instead of being in the studio, he decided to go freestyle at the park because “freestyling is a skill too, Eunwoo, and if I don’t practice I’ll lose it. Plus I needed some fresh air.”

Which was all well and good, but Eunwoo had panicked and nearly lost his job when the CEO had enquired after Rocky, and Eunwoo had been unable to tell him where he was. Rocky responded to Eunwoo’s exasperated text message with a simple, “The weather was nice.”

Sanha was like a little brother; someone that Eunwoo treasured, someone he wanted to protect. He stayed late a few times to just sit with Sanha when he was too stressed or too tired to sleep, even letting him cry into his shoulder as he stroked his hair. One night, Sanha cried himself to sleep in Eunwoo’s arms as they sat on the couch, and Eunwoo simply stayed there all night, too afraid that if he woke Sanha, he wouldn’t be able to sleep again. 

Other times, Sanha was bright and happy and just enjoyed spending time with Eunwoo. He spent many of the moments when he was free from practice in Eunwoo and MJ’s joint office — Sanha was drawn to MJ’s overtly bright personality, but he often clung to Eunwoo like a rock in a storm. Eunwoo didn’t mind. Everything Sanha did was endearing, and Eunwoo was glad that Sanha trusted him with this side of himself.

Jinwoo was a calming presence, a good leader in the right circumstances. However, he had a crazy side just like all the members: Give him a camera and they’d have plenty of quality content for that week’s Astro Play. He always smiled in a way that made him look like a mouse. Eunwoo found it equal parts adorable and hilarious. Jinwoo was a helping hand at dinner and an ally for Eunwoo in extreme situations. They could talk endlessly, and his dinner conversations with Jinwoo were always extremely interesting. 

Jinwoo spent even more time in Eunwoo and MJ’s office than Sanha, speaking to MJ, helping him with work, smiling at him. Eunwoo appreciated their friendship. It was something to aspire to, to strive for.

MJ was another person Eunwoo considered himself significantly closer to now. They had lots of time to talk at the office, both being stuck together all day, and MJ had developed a tendency to eat dinner with Eunwoo and ASTRO at the dorm. It first happened about a week into Eunwoo’s time on the job. MJ simply walked home with them and fell into a chair, responding to Eunwoo’s questioning gaze with, “Listen, Eunwoo, you make dinner here every night. By hand. That’s definitely not a requirement of your job, but if you’re going to do it I may as well come and eat dinner with friends rather than go home and eat instant ramen alone.” Eunwoo shrugged, banging a pot down on the stove. He couldn’t argue with that logic.

The more he got to know MJ, the more he saw the truth in Jinwoo’s statement from the first day that they’d met, saying that MJ was the craziest of them all. He _definitely_ was. Honestly, MJ could find a way to make talking about the weather hilarious. Some of the things MJ said made Eunwoo laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t rare for someone to burst into their office to find MJ in the middle of telling a joke to an Eunwoo who couldn’t even sit up straight, gasping and lying across his desk like a dying fish, grinning so wide that his cheeks hurt.

Moon Bin was an enigma to Eunwoo. He felt as though he was the closest to Bin, yet also the furthest away from him. It was an odd sensation. Eunwoo couldn’t figure out why he felt so conflicted over his growing friendship with Bin. He was everything Eunwoo could ask for in a good friend. He got along with Eunwoo great, smiled at him constantly, and laughed at his lame jokes. They talked about everything, and Eunwoo also found himself comforting Bin on his bad days, just as he did Sanha, but in a far less tactile way. 

On those days, they just sat next to each other in silence, Bin wrapped in a blanket, Eunwoo’s arm resting gently across his shoulders. Bin sometimes leaned his head against Eunwoo’s shoulder, and they sat there until Bin drifted off to sleep and Eunwoo carried him to bed. 

Bin and Eunwoo often had lunch together at a coffee shop just down the street. It had started as a casual meeting of convenience as they were often free for lunch at the same times, but then Eunwoo found himself going out of his way to set that time aside, and it seemed awfully like Bin was doing the same. It accidentally became a _thing._ Every time Eunwoo grabbed his coat, throwing a casual “I’m off to meet Bin,” over his shoulder to MJ and Jinwoo, they shared a _look_ before waving goodbye. 

Eunwoo’s free time was sucked up by the new job, yet he found himself happier than he had ever been while working in law or even during his short stint as a full-time actor. The group was like a family, and Eunwoo became the overbearing mom friend. Spending time at the office or in the practice rooms began to feel like coming home.

He lost track of how many times he barged into rehearsals to drag Minhyuk away from the mirror where he practiced his dance moves again and again in order to force him to eat a proper meal. He dragged MJ out of his office as he protested loudly, despite the fact that he hadn’t gone home to sleep in days. He found himself sitting Jinwoo down and just forcing him to talk it all out — Jinwoo was a worrier, and he wouldn’t share unless Eunwoo pushed him. 

Eunwoo began actively seeking out Sanha’s hiding places and just holding him close — the kid was so young, so alone and had so much _responsibility_ — letting him be a kid, even if only for a minute. And it was Eunwoo who now peeled Bin out of bed in the morning and off the practice room floor at night, where he oftentimes just lay down and fell asleep, halfway through practice. 

He found himself talking shit with Minhyuk, sharing poignant observations with Jinwoo, gossiping brightly with Sanha and MJ, and chatting with Bin as though they had been friends for _years_. And so, debut creeped closer and closer, and ASTRO became busier and busier. 

Sanha’s once a month crying sessions turned into once a week crying sessions. Minhyuk developed a habit of stress baking because Eunwoo refused to let him stress _dance_. Bin began walking around in a haze of exhaustion, and Jinwoo redoubled his efforts to avoid talking seriously with Eunwoo at all costs. Even MJ smiled less. It was extremely unnerving.

So Eunwoo did what only he had the power to do — he cleared their schedule. One morning, three months before debut, Eunwoo let the group sleep in. 

He came into their apartment much later than usual, taking extra care not to wake them as he slipped inside. He made coffee and sat on the couch, curling into himself. He sipped the coffee, enjoying the warm morning sun as he pulled one of the blankets thrown carelessly on the couch onto his lap. All there was to do now was wait. 

It didn’t take long. Jinwoo usually woke up just at the sound of the door opening, so he wasn’t that surprised when only a few minutes after sitting down he heard a strangled yelp coming from the bedroom, and rushed footsteps as Jinwoo made the announcement.

“Oh my god, guys, we’re so screwed. It’s 10:00am already, Eunwoo is going to _kill us_.”

Another yelp, followed by a thud. Presumably that was Sanha — he tended to fall out of bed when startled. 

“Well, then, where is Eunwoo?” Minhyuk’s voice was annoyed and heavy with sleep. “Isn’t he the one who wakes us up?” There was a dull thwacking kind of noise and Minhyuk grumbled, “My head? Really, Jinwoo? Was that necessary?”

“Yes, it was necessary! If Eunwoo isn’t here, he’s probably dead!” 

Bin’s voice, confused and significantly slower than usual, joined the conversation. “What’s this about Eunwoo being dead?” His voice took on a worried tone. “Do you really think so?” He sounded mildly panicked. Eunwoo was going to hell for finding this hilarious. 

Jinwoo’s voice softened considerably. “He’s probably not dead, Bin, just a little sick. But let’s go call him and find out, okay?” 

Footsteps approached from down the hall and Eunwoo just sipped on his coffee, struggling to push down a smile. The moment that ASTRO got into the main hallway, they stopped dead. Eunwoo really had to struggle not to laugh at the expressions on their faces, paired with their pajamas and messy hair. He raised his phone and took a photo, relishing the moment for a split second before going back to business. 

“Oh, good morning,” Eunwoo said, once again calm. He took another sip of his drink, and Jinwoo seemed downright offended by his state of calm. Sanha and Bin looked confused, and if Eunwoo had to guess, he would say Minhyuk looked… _intrigued_.

“Why aren’t we at practice,” Jinwoo deadpanned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Eunwoo brightened, setting his cup down calmly on the coffee table. 

“Oh, I cleared your schedule! Didn’t I mention it?”

They all immediately looked horrified. Bin blanched. “Eunwoo, you can’t, we’re three months from debut — ” Eunwoo’s answering glare shut them all up, faces becoming neutral, but fear and mild panic still flickered in their eyes. Silence fell for a moment.

“Um. Why?” Minhyuk asked, finally. Eunwoo brightened, clapping his hands together as he stood.

“I am _so glad_ you asked, Rocky!” he said, grinning. “As much as I absolutely _adore_ your newfound passion for making cake pops, Jinwoo’s sudden muteness, Bin’s updated status as a victim of the zombie apocalypse, Sanha suddenly becoming a public water fountain, and MJ’s newfound preference for sleeping on a desk rather than a bed, I don’t find that it's productive for a successful debut.” They all avoided his gaze and Eunwoo smiled. _Got you_. “So, today we have nothing going on. Free to do whatever we want! And yes, we’re dragging MJ with us,” he said, grinning at Sanha, who had been tentatively lifting his hand up. “Not that he’ll need much dragging, I don’t think.”

Right on cue, MJ threw open the door to the dorm, arms full of bags. “Eunwoo, I brought the pastries,” MJ said, smiling breathlessly. “And I’m only an hour late.” 

To an outsider, MJ’s tone would be far too proud, but Eunwoo had once stood outside a filming location for hours waiting for MJ to show up. It turned out he had found a stray dog on his way over and took it to the animal shelter all the way across the city. Then he had thought of grabbing some coffee and pastries to apologize to Eunwoo for being so late, so of course he went to do that and the car broke down. MJ got the pastries as his car was repaired at a garage that, surprise surprise, was not even remotely near the shooting location. He’d rushed in just under the five hour mark with cold coffee and pastries, but Eunwoo appreciated the thought.

It also turned out he hadn’t missed much: only two or three scenes had been shot of the nearly twenty-seven total within the music video. After learning that number, Eunwoo had thrown the cold coffee down his throat. Warm or not, it was still caffeinated.

Eunwoo shuddered at the memory, and took the bag of pastries from MJ. He pulled out a danish and took a bite.

“Who wants a croissant? Sanha?” The maknae perked up at his name being placed within the same sentence as _croissant_. Eunwoo snickered, passing it to him. “Of course, how could I separate you from your one true love?”

“Eunwoo,” Sanha whined. “It was _one time_ , and I was _starving_.” 

Bin struggled to contain a laugh as he choked out, “The fact that we were stuck on shoot doesn’t give you the right to propose using _croissant_ as a term of endearment for your future girlfriend.”

They all lost it. Sanha just turned pink. He was gesticulating wildly, his croissant still in his hand, as he said, “God, now I have to call my future girlfriend croissant, just to prove you all wrong. I hate this family.” 

His face was forlorn as he surveyed the croissant in his hands. Eunwoo just continued to snicker, handing a Bear Claw to Jinwoo.

Soon enough they found themselves together in a van. Eunwoo took the wheel with Moon Bin beside him in the front seat. As Eunwoo drove through the streets of Seoul, his friends chattered away behind him, rejoicing over the free day.

“Thanks.” Eunwoo blinked, casting a small glance towards Bin. He’d been scrolling on his phone a few moments ago, but now he was looking at Eunwoo as he drove. “You really didn’t have to go out of your way to do this, but you did and that’s super nice and amazing. _You’re_ super nice and amazing. Thanks.”

All conversation had fallen silent in the car. Jinwoo and MJ looked towards each other knowingly. Sanha’s gaze bounced between the pair, and Rocky grinned to himself. Eunwoo adjusted his grip on the steering wheel.

“It’s no problem, Bin,” he said, smiling forward, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. “You’re my friends, and I’ll do anything I can to make your debut easier, both as your assistant manager and your friend.”

There was only the sound of the car’s engine running and the small lurch of the car as Eunwoo turned left. MJ broke the silence with a panicked exclamation, his arm hitting the back of Eunwoo’s seat.

“Wait, we were supposed to take a right, not a left!” He gesticulated wildly.

“ _Shit_.” Eunwoo immediately pulled the car into a u-turn. The car exploded with laughs, even Rocky hiding a chuckle behind his hand. 

A few minutes later they were back on track, and another hour or so after that they arrived at the amusement park. The members clambered out of the van, complaining about aches in their legs, their arms, their necks, and so on. Eunwoo ignored them and tilted his head up, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun as he squinted at the tallest rollercoaster. The park itself was childish and ridiculous, he thought, but then again, so were they, so they had no right to judge the park for its quality of entertainment.

The sun was bright in the lovely blue sky. The clouds were fluffy and pure white. Eunwoo thanked any god that there might be that there would be no rain. It was the kind of day where you just have to go outside with friends and do something fun. Far-off delighted screams drifted over on the wind as a rollercoaster whizzed by.

MJ grinned and began dragging Jinwoo towards the park. The others lingered behind, choosing to walk with Eunwoo rather than make the effort of keeping up with MJ. Yet once they reached the gate and everyone’s tickets and wristbands were sorted out, Rocky and Sanha set off on their own, leaving Eunwoo alone with Bin.

Sighing, Eunwoo rolled his eyes. Bin shrugged back, and they went on their way, wandering through the park. It wasn’t long before Bin was pulling him into a line for a rollercoaster. Eunwoo fell into line next to him, nearly losing his balance. 

“Ah, watch out,” he scolded jokingly. “I could have died.” Bin just rolled his eyes.

“If you neared death every time you lost your balance, you would be dead many times over, Eunwoo.” Bin snorted. Eunwoo pulled his coat out of Bin’s loose grasp with an indignant noise in the back of his throat.

“I’ll have you know you’d be dead too,” Eunwoo pointed out. Bin wasn’t exactly graceful. Just last week, he’d knocked the fake plant in Eunwoo and MJ’s office to the side across MJ’s desk, knocking multiple folders down onto the floor. The papers had fanned out and MJ had just sighed. 

_“Really Bin? Again?”_

Now, waiting for the rollercoaster, Bin had the sense to look a little sheepish. “Okay, true.” The line moved forward as another group of people climbed the stairs and settled onto the ride.

The line inched forward again. Eunwoo looked to the sky, squinting to see the rollercoaster. He bit his lip. That was high.

Moon Bin seemed to notice him staring. “Wait, you aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

Eunwoo laughed. It would have been convincing if not for the slight shake near the end. “Of course not.” Bin shot him a disbelieving glance. Eunwoo sighed. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

Bin’s face immediately creased with worry. “Eunwoo, why didn’t you say so earlier? I don’t want to force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

Eunwoo shook his head and smiled reassuringly. “No, I’m the one who chose today’s location, remember? I wouldn’t have chosen an amusement park if it made me that uncomfortable.” Bin bit his lip and looked up at the rollercoaster too. 

“But it’s really high,” he said, worried. “You’re sure you’ll be alright?”

“My greatest fear isn’t heights,” Eunwoo said. “It’s dying alone. So since you’re with me, I’ll be okay.” Bin looked at him, eyes wide. Eunwoo realized, a little late, that he had maybe overshared a bit. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was a bit much. But I’ll really be fine, Bin, don’t worry.”

Another group of people got on board, and now they were worryingly close to the front of the line. Bin bit his lip. “You sure you’re sure?” 

Eunwoo sighed and smiled. “I’m sure that I’m sure.” Bin seemed unconvinced. Eunwoo rolled his eyes. “I swear! I’ll be fine.”

Bin looked nervous. He looked down at the ground and muttered something Eunwoo couldn’t quite catch, fidgeting awkwardly with his shirtsleeve. “What was that?”

“Well, maybe if you held my hand you’d feel better,” Bin said, only the slightest bit louder. Eunwoo blinked, and then felt a little twitch in his heart and on his lips. 

“Maybe I would,” he conceded. He reached to take Bin’s hand in his own. Normally he’d decline, but he was in no position to do that considering what they were about to do. Bin’s hand was warm and soft, and fit perfectly into his own. Eunwoo did find himself a little calmer the second Bin’s palm touched his, and he found himself letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Their hands stayed entwined as they boarded the rollercoaster. 

A bored employee wandered over to them, smacking her gum loudly as she pushed the safety bar down over their laps. Eunwoo held onto the bar tightly with his free hand. The fake leather was old and sun dried, rough against his skin.

The ride started and Eunwoo panicked for a moment, too scared to look up or, god forbid, down. So instead he tried to just look out on the skyline, and at the lovely view they had as they ascended. The problem was that it reminded him that they were, in fact, ascending. He closed his eyes, but that just made him more nervous. So finally he gave up and focused on Bin.

Bin looked excited, anticipating the drop. Eunwoo grinned. Bin’s excitement was infectious, it seemed. He was glad, and felt at peace, settling in to enjoy the ride. 

When they stepped off, hair windswept, eyes bright and cheeks pink from the rushing wind, Eunwoo just laughed ecstatically along with Bin. They wandered over to examine the picture of them on the ride. Bin was grinning, mouth open mid-shout, an arm thrown up in the air. He looked a perfect picture of an overjoyed rider. Eunwoo, on the other hand, wasn’t even looking at the camera. Instead, he looked straight at Bin, a wide smile spread across his features. Bin looked flustered as he saw the picture, and was all too ready to try to drag Eunwoo away, a red flush creeping up the back of his neck. 

Eunwoo let himself be dragged away, but not before getting a photo on his cell phone of the picture in question. He looked good, okay? Sue him. It was definitely _not_ because of Bin’s clear joy and how beautiful he looked when he smiled. It was just because his hair somehow didn’t look ridiculous. Obviously. 

The routine repeated for hours, Bin pulling Eunwoo on to ride after ride, grinning and laughing. They bought amusement park food for lunch, which Eunwoo usually hated because it tasted like diabetes and maybe cancer. But today it tasted like a 5-star meal, with Bin by his side thoroughly enjoying it after his long months of dieting. 

When the sun sank in the sky, Eunwoo and Bin met up with the others again. MJ was munching on some cotton candy, his arm slung through Jinwoo’s as he beamed at them. Sanha and Rocky reappeared, Sanha’s arms full of plushies. 

“Minhyuk won them, but he made me carry them,” Sanha complained, dropping half of them onto Eunwoo without even a shred of remorse.

“It makes sense,” Rocky argued, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “I did the hard work of winning them, so you had to carry them. It was only fair. If you’d won any, I would have carried them.”

“But I didn’t win any!” Sanha exclaimed, pouting.

“Exactly,” Rocky hissed, vindicated. “You’re a loser. So you had to carry the plushies.” He looked far too triumphant about this. Eunwoo just shook his head, letting them have their fun. Sanha made an offended sound in protest. His arms were still half full of plushies. Without a word, Bin took some from him. Eunwoo shot him a grateful smile.

“Anyway, we should get going soon,” MJ said, grinning. “We have to get back into the city in time for our dinner reservation!” 

Eunwoo straightened.“MJ, what dinner reservation? I didn’t make a dinner reservation.” The other members now looked nervous. MJ just laughed, and it was disturbingly maniacal.

“Oh, don’t worry, Eunwoo. I found us a great place!”

Eunwoo’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I highly doubt that, or you would have asked me to make the reservation. Making it on your own implies it’s a place I wouldn’t approve of. Is this somewhere Sanha and Rocky can’t go?”

MJ rolled his eyes. “You have no faith. Of course I wouldn’t exclude our youngest. It’s a _family-friendly_ bar.”

Eunwoo just sighed and rubbed his temples, awkwardly holding the plushies he had left in his arms with his elbows as he did so. A small turtle plush fell and bounced on the pavement slightly before being swooped off the ground by Bin. Eunwoo gave Bin another grateful look and then sighed, turning to face MJ. 

“Fine. But if anything happens, I’ll 100% throw you under the bus to the higher-ups.” MJ just smirked, triumphant.

“You would never,” he taunted. Eunwoo gave him a look.

“Try me.”

In the end, MJ won despite Eunwoo’s best efforts. They found themselves outside what seemed to be a pub, which to MJ’s credit, _did_ look family friendly. The lights were glowing from the inside and happy chatter streamed through the open doorway, warm and inviting. Eunwoo led them inside and they settled down at a worn wooden table to order.

Before long, everyone was munching on fries and chatting. MJ, Bin, and Jinwoo opted for some beer, and Sanha happily sipped a soda. They chattered and laughed as the bar got busier, people walking in and out, and Eunwoo let himself relax into the atmosphere. The air was warm, and Bin turned to Eunwoo and smiled. Eunwoo could feel the salt from the fries on his lips as he smiled back. 

At some point Bin’s arm ended up around Eunwoo’s shoulder, and his hand was on Bin’s thigh. Eunwoo was exhausted, tired from driving and wandering around all day. Bin was soft and warm, and Eunwoo found himself snuggling further into Bin’s side, his eyes fluttering shut. 

He yawned. Bin just grinned down at him, pulling Eunwoo’s head onto his shoulder and resting his head atop Eunwoo’s own. “Maybe we should head home,” Bin mumbled into Eunwoo’s ear, breath soft and hot against his skin. Eunwoo nodded. He made no attempt to move, and Bin didn’t seem inclined to alter their position either. 

In the end Jinwoo made the final move and pushed his chair back with a loud scraping sound. Sanha and MJ bounced up, followed by Rocky, and it was only then that Eunwoo reluctantly forced himself to stand and venture outside. The night air was cool against his skin, but Bin stayed close enough to keep him warm. 

The night fell as they pulled out of the parking lot, this time with MJ behind the wheel and Bin and Eunwoo in the back. Jinwoo’s feet went up on the dashboard as he hummed a tune, and Sanha and Rocky talked in hushed voices, so quiet they almost blended in with the soft hum of the engine.

Eunwoo leaned against the cool of the window and looked up at the stars, occasionally hidden by passing trees. Bin’s head settled onto his shoulder as he calmly drifted off to sleep. 

Jinwoo’s soft snores hummed through the car. Sanha lay slumped over onto Rocky’s shoulder. The car bumped gently over the holes in the road. The flickering light of the streetlights danced across the members’ faces. 

Eunwoo stayed awake, and after an hour or so, he and MJ switched seats. When they reached the dorms, the others piled out of the car, one by one, until just Bin was left, asleep in the back where Eunwoo left him. Sighing, Eunwoo pulled himself out of the front seat and climbed into the back, placing a gentle hand on Bin’s shoulder. 

Unlike usual, Bin woke up immediately at Eunwoo’s touch, and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. They looked at each other, silence hanging between them, and Bin tilted his head very slightly to the left, as though questioning what to do next. 

Eunwoo didn’t move. His feet and Bin’s were tangled together. He could feel the softness of Bin’s weird fluffy socks against his calves, his shoes probably abandoned on the floor of the car. His hand was warm against Bin’s shoulder. Something about the moment seemed fragile, as though crafted from delicately spun glass, and Eunwoo was afraid of breaking it. 

“What’s wrong?” Bin’s soft whisper seemed overly loud in the silence of the car. Eunwoo smiled, and shook his head, already turning away, but Bin reached out, taking hold of his wrist.

“You know, I stand by what I said when I first met you.” Bin was like an open book. He wore his heart on his sleeve and declared his emotions loudly and without worry to anyone listening. And yet his expression was, for once, unreadable. 

“What’s that?” Eunwoo’s voice nearly cracked. Bin just looked back at him, his fingers still around Eunwoo’s wrist. 

“Your emotions are very controlled.” Bin finally let go, and Eunwoo’s hand fell softly to his side. “Maybe a little too controlled sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you.”

“Dongmin.”

“What?” Bin’s gaze flicked up to meet Eunwoo’s.

“My name.” Eunwoo choked out the words, avoiding eye contact, but he could still feel the way Bin’s eyes burned into him. “It’s Dongmin. Not Eunwoo. Well, I guess it’s also Eunwoo. But Dongmin is my name, too. It was my name first.” 

Bin seemed to process the information. He shifted in his seat. Eunwoo finally summoned the courage to look up at him. Bin was smiling. It was a soft kind of smile, the pleased smile when you’ve been given a compliment. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Anytime.” 

Eunwoo felt it in his whole body the moment they made eye contact, and for the first time he noticed how dark Bin’s eyes were. In the harsh light from the streetlights above, they seemed endless. 

He cleared his throat and stood abruptly, hurriedly withdrawing out into the night air, the moment broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! 
> 
> With everything going on in the world right now, I was hesistant about posting this chapter on time, but i ultimately made the decision to keep to the schedule.
> 
> However, there ARE lots of things happening in the world right now so please check out this carrd about the black lives matter movement [here](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co) to learn more and see what you can do to help!
> 
> as usual, comments and kudos are appreciated (but please check out the carrd if you havent already!!!! that matters far more <3)
> 
> love,  
> robin!


	4. Chapter 4

After the day of the rollercoaster outing, Bin seemed to have broken through some psychological and physical boundary when it came to Eunwoo. At every opportunity, he hugged Eunwoo, put his hand on Eunwoo’s shoulder, sat as close as possible to Eunwoo. They became closer than ever. 

But most importantly, Bin began to call him Minnie. 

It started slowly. The morning after their adventure, Bin slid into the kitchen and sat down at the table, excitedly pulling a plate of eggs towards him. Eunwoo just rolled his eyes, flipping another batch of eggs in his pan as Bin dug in. The members always flew around during the mornings, preferring to sleep to the point of almost being late than to give up even an extra minute of shut-eye. 

“Thanks, Minnie! You make the best eggs.” Eunwoo turned around in shock, but Bin was already gone, having eaten at lightning speed and dashing out of the kitchen to go get dressed.

Eunwoo would have burnt the eggs if Minhyuk hadn’t ambled in, yawning, and asked “Um. Eunwoo? Are you going to flip those…?”

Eunwoo snapped out of it and turned around to eggs that were only _slightly_ charred. He cursed and pulled them off the fire immediately. Bin’s strange new nickname was forgotten as Minhyuk snickered behind his hand at his blunder.

It was not forgotten for long. Bin began to call Eunwoo Minnie _all the time_. During a phone call when he had to tell Eunwoo he couldn’t make their daily lunch excursion, when he whined about stopping dance practice in order to sleep, and on one memorable occasion, in an attempt to be cute enough to distract Eunwoo from the fact that he had skipped eating dinner to practice instead. That one hadn’t been received as well, and MJ had almost cried with laughter at Bin’s attempt. 

Either way, it didn’t really bother him until someone else tried to call him Minnie. It had been Minhyuk, at the dinner table. It was clearly just an attempt to poke fun at Bin for his constant use of the nickname, but there was something about the way it sounded on Minhyuk’s tongue that made him uncomfortable. 

It must have shown on his face, because the conversation abruptly changed and no one but Bin called him Minnie again.

(Had Eunwoo been paying closer attention, he may have realized that it was not his discomfort that stopped the members in their tracks, but _Bin’s_. He’d had a scowl written across his features the moment Minhyuk opened his mouth.)

* * *

The day of the debut stage was the busiest day of Eunwoo’s life.

He woke the members at four in the morning for some hurried breakfast before rushing them to the stage as they drifted off in the back of his van. The streets of Seoul were silent and lifeless, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon.

But even though the gray morning mist still hung gently in the air and the birds were softly singing, Eunwoo couldn’t find a single moment of peace. His phone rang incessantly from the moment he woke up until hours after the stage ended. Stylists with last minute changes, harried stage directors, confused managers, perplexed cameramen, and once even the CEO, checking in on the proceedings. Eunwoo simply couldn’t answer them all.

The moment they arrived at the venue, the members were whisked away to hair and makeup. Eunwoo focused on securing a rehearsal space and finding their green room. What seemed like hundreds of people brushed past him as he rushed down the hallways, all equally as stressed. 

Most were clearly staffers, dark circles under their eyes, lanyards around their necks, and coffee clutched in their hands as they hurried about. As the hours passed, they became interspersed with different members of idol groups, freshly out of hair and makeup. 

As Eunwoo scrambled to find the green room, he ran across MJ, who looked equally frazzled. They had a short, panicked switching of duties. MJ dumped a huge stack of paperwork into Eunwoo’s arms with a harried promise to secure a rest area for the members. 

Burdened with a stack of papers that weighed more than his entire body, Eunwoo moved through the hallways far more precariously. He eventually swerved into some kind of break room, filled with miscellaneous stylists and managers, that was slightly quieter than the hallways. 

He settled down to do the paperwork, but he was constantly interrupted by his phone ringing and even the occasional announcement over the building’s PA system. The entire day was so hectic that by the time the paperwork was done and he’d managed to return it to MJ, Eunwoo had to round up ASTRO for their warmup and pre-stage practice, where they tested all the camera angles and ensured that the stage was familiar to them before the big performance.

The whole ordeal was a nightmare. Sanha had gotten separated from the group and ended up in the wrong dressing room, and Eunwoo had gone to find him personally. He found him, and thankfully the girl group whose dressing room he had accidentally invaded seemed to love him, but it had been a close call. If the schedule had been thrown off, any semblance of organization that remained would be mercilessly torn apart along with Eunwoo’s remaining sanity. 

The camera angles took forever to cement because the directors decided to switch them up and add some moving elements to match parts of the choreography to make it all look more dynamic. By the time the whole rehearsal was over and it had all been settled, Eunwoo felt as though he’d been awake for at least forty-eight hours, and his hands were curled protectively around his third cup of coffee like a lifeline. MJ seemed to share this sentiment.

“I’m genuinely considering using UberEats to bring me some kind of energy drink to spike this coffee,” MJ commented. Eunwoo glanced over at him.

“I really want to berate you for your poor life choices, but a part of me is starting to believe that you have the right idea.” Eunwoo paused to take another apathetic sip of his coffee before continuing. He contemplated the coffee in his hands. “I’m a little terrified that I might be agreeing with you. I’m going to need to sleep for a solid thirty days after this.” 

“Cheers to that,” MJ deadpanned. They tapped their drinks together soullessly. 

The day dragged on for what seemed like forever. The moments blurred together as they rushed from the dressing room to the stage and back again, armies of stylists and managers flying along the hallways in every direction, the calls from the intercom calling the groups to the stage and then, suddenly, it was time.

Standing in the wings, watching as ASTRO’s members began their dance, Eunwoo swelled with pride. Nobody missed a single beat. Bin and Rocky’s solo dance in the center went off without a hitch, Jinwoo’s rap part left the audience cheering, and Sanha’s high note was perfectly in tune. By the time the music faded out and they’d hit their last position, Eunwoo and MJ were already throwing their arms around one another.

“We did it,” MJ breathed into Eunwoo’s shoulder, and Eunwoo could feel his arms crushing through Eunwoo’s jacket, and his hair brushing against Eunwoo’s his cheek since MJ was just a little bit too short to be level with Eunwoo. 

“Hell yeah, we did,” Eunwoo said, pulling back and grinning at MJ, who beamed. “We’re a hell of a team.”

“Eunwoo!” Suddenly Eunwoo was pulled back and spun around to face Bin, his eyes sparkling, the rest of ASTRO hot on his heels. The stage lights were blinding behind him, the euphoria of a job well done clear in his eyes. 

Time slowed down as Bin tugged him forward. Before they were even close enough for Bin to throw his arms all the way around Eunwoo’s shoulders, he paused. For a split second, all sound fell away and Eunwoo watched as Bin’s eyes flicked down, and back up again. 

Eunwoo swallowed.

And then Bin was hugging him as though nothing had ever happened, squeezing Eunwoo tight around the shoulders, the other boys cheering with MJ, celebrating the success of their debut stage. But all Eunwoo could think about was the pause, the look in Bin’s eyes — but it couldn’t be what it seemed, could it? 

No. Eunwoo chalked it up to the performance high and shook the moment off, turning back to the celebrations.

Debut was accompanied by a grueling round on the promotional circuit, filled by long days of interviews and longer nights in the practice room, pushing closer and closer to try to achieve perfection. Eunwoo’s work stayed much the same — planning schedules, getting the group from schedule to schedule, being a glorified mother hen — there was just more of it. In fact, nearly a month passed by in a whirlwind.

One afternoon, when MJ was out buying pastries from the coffee shop down the street, there was a knock on their office door.

“Come on in.” Eunwoo was up to his elbows in paperwork, but he still put his pen down when he saw Bin in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Oh, hey, Bin. What can I help you with?”

Bin shuffled inside and shut the door quickly, hurrying over to sit at Eunwoo’s desk.

Eunwoo frowned. Bin looked uncomfortable, eyes darting away, looking everywhere but at Eunwoo. He tapped his fingers against the desk and took a deep breath.

“Um, well, do you remember when I went on _The Show_ as a special MC?”

“Yeah, of course.” Eunwoo had spent three hours on the phone organizing that schedule, and he was actually pretty proud of himself for it — it was a pretty prominent opportunity.

“Well, do you remember the other MCs that week?”

“Uh, sure. Wasn’t it the regular MC, the guy from the Monster group?”

“Um, Monsta X’s Minhyuk, yeah. But not him, the other one.”

“Oh, the girl from the new girl group. What was her name…”

“Hani.”

“Oh, yes. Hani. What about her?”

“Well.” Bin swallowed, staring straight at the placard on Eunwoo’s desk, avoiding eye contact like it was the plague. “We talked a lot after the show, exchanged numbers, that kind of thing.” Eunwoo nodded. It made sense. In fact, it was smart to start building connections, especially with groups who had debuted around the same time as ASTRO. Why was Bin so nervous to tell him?

“Well, I checked, and double checked, and then _triple_ checked, and there’s nothing in my contract against dating,” Bin blurted. 

Eunwoo’s eyes widened. _So that’s why._

“Hani and I have started dating.”

* * *

Eunwoo sat on the floor of the practice room, papers spread around him in a circle. The last dying sunbeams struggled through the thin windows above the mirror and cascaded down onto his shoulders, bathing him in the kind of golden sunlight that you can only see just before the sun sets. Eunwoo shuffled his papers, rubbing a hand across his face.

He was reorganizing the schedules, trying to give Moon Bin as much free time as possible so he could go and visit Hani, and it was giving him a headache. He sighed and let the papers slip from his hands, falling and sliding across the floor, kicking up swirling dust particles that danced in the fading sunlight. Eunwoo watched as they settled back down onto the ground. He sighed again. He gave up and lay down, looking up at the ceiling.

As he lay there and the sun slowly retreated, Eunwoo felt strange. His chest was heavy, as though there was a weight that had been placed upon it — he was forcefully reminded of when his brother used to jump onto his bed and rest all of his weight on him. 

Eunwoo sighed and tried to think of the schedules, but his own mind seemed to get in his way. He couldn’t think of any time he could clear from Moon Bin’s schedule, though he was certain it was possible; he’d already organized the other members' schedules and they had more downtime than Bin, though it was Eunwoo’s aim to give Bin _more_ time off than them.

Eunwoo knew how hard relationships were, especially if you had a busy schedule like idols did, and he wanted to lighten Bin’s load. Yet he felt at a loss as to how to do so, and even stranger, he found himself oddly opposed to the idea. His reservations made no sense — he liked Hani well enough from what he knew about her, and based on the photos Bin had shown him on his phone, they seemed like they were made for each other. She looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Eunwoo simply couldn’t understand why he had such reservations.

He twisted his mouth and refocused his gaze on the ceiling. It was smooth, but had delicate fractures threading throughout where the paint had gotten old and begun to chip. Bin worked so hard, and liked Hani so much. Why couldn’t Eunwoo just do this one thing for them, by giving them more time together? He was the one in charge of the schedules, and furthermore, he was the only staff member Bin had trusted with the knowledge of his relationship. Eunwoo didn’t want to betray that trust. 

He stewed, just lying there. The group had all gone home already, and were probably wondering where Eunwoo was. He’d promised to make dinner, after all. 

Finally he sat up and sighed, pushing his hair off of his forehead. The light was almost gone, and he collected the papers around him, flipping through, organizing them, and then pulling them all into a neat pile. _Sanha, Rocky, Jinwoo, Moon Bin._

Eunwoo smiled fondly as he looked at the schedule. He was fond of all of the boys, but he’d be lying if he said that Bin didn’t have a special place in his heart. Moon Bin, with his sunshine smile and puppy-cat eyes, beautiful, kind, lovely Moon Bin…

His thoughts trailed off. The papers slipped from Eunwoo’s grasp and fell to the floor, skittering away from him easily against the hardwood. He stood frozen as it finally hit him. _He was in love with Moon Bin._

It was like the last piece of a puzzle had been put into place. Eunwoo felt a soul bond form, deep in his chest beside his heart. It was so _warm_ , loving and beautiful, and then —

Reality came pouring in. This was Moon Bin, who was not interested in the slightest, Moon Bin, who liked women, who had a _girlfriend,_ for god’s sake. 

Moon Bin, who was his _soulmate._

Eunwoo closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his throat tight and dry. The soul bond twisted and splintered, his heart shattering along with it; a wedge forced between its two halves and tearing it apart. 

When he opened his eyes again, the sun had set and he had accepted that he was completely, irrevocably, _irreversibly_ in love with Moon Bin. The universe had decreed it.

He had also accepted that Moon Bin would _never_ love him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. The angst begins now. 
> 
> Check back next time where i accidentally predict the future (since the scene in question was written before...certain events), and we get Eunwoo's dramatic backstory, thus catapulting this fic into true kdrama status. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!!! Comments and kudos are <3__<3
> 
> love,  
> Robin


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Sorry for the late chapter! I was without wifi yesterday, so here's the chapter for you all today!!!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Robin

It was late. Too late, probably. But frankly, Eunwoo didn’t care. Fuck Moon Bin and his model girlfriend. Eunwoo was beautiful too, and at the moment, he was  _ hammered _ drunk. 

The lights in the club flashed all kinds of colors, and Eunwoo was dancing. Admittedly, he wasn’t dancing as well as Moon Bin could’ve danced — Bin was a genius on the dance floor, rivaled only by Rocky. Eunwoo’s brow furrowed and he whined a little in the back of his throat. Why was he still thinking about Moon Bin? Fuck Moon Bin!

He swayed off the dance floor, grinning as he bobbed his head to the music. It had been so long since he’d gotten wasted, he’d forgotten how fun it could be. He sank into a seat at the bar and smiled at the bartender. The bartender just smiled and slid him a glass of water. 

A large part of Eunwoo didn’t want to drink it. Fuck being responsible, he was responsible all the time. But then the responsible part of his brain logically reminded him that he would be the only one suffering tomorrow if he didn’t stay hydrated, so he tossed it back. He was just putting down the glass when someone sat next to him. 

He looked up and saw silvery hair. It had to be dyed, but Eunwoo didn’t care. This boy was pretty, god, he was  _ so _ pretty. Eunwoo would probably cry about how pretty he was, but the logical part of his brain told him that doing that might lose him the chance to kiss this guy. And god, Eunwoo  _ really _ wanted to kiss this guy. His lips were just so … kissable. 

The guy looked up, saw Eunwoo, and smiled. His eyes were dark and piercing, flashing in the low light, but they held an awful lot of kindness too. Eunwoo figured he was a safe bet, so he smiled back, doing his best to make it look flirtatious. 

It was received well. The guy smiled wider. “Hey there. What’s your name?” His voice was soft, but strong. It flowed over Eunwoo like sweet spring water. He loved it. 

“Dongmin,” he breathed. Because fuck Eunwoo, Eunwoo was hopelessly in love with Moon Bin, with acting, with a hundred other things he would never have. It was pathetic. Tonight he could just be Dongmin.

The man grinned at him. “I’m Jaehyun.” Dongmin grinned back. “Do you come here often?”

“Not really, but I might start if there are men as attractive as you who come here.” Dongmin flirted shamelessly, because Dongmin wasn’t in love with Moon Bin. He really  _ wasn’t _ . Jaehyun bit his lip. Dongmin’s heart swelled, and he felt reckless.

“Let’s get out of here,” he proposed. Jaehyun looked hesitant. Dongmin didn’t blame him, it was kind of out of nowhere. But Jaehyun was cute and also  _ hot, _ and Dongmin was definitely  _ not _ hung up on Moon Bin, so he was one hundred percent emotionally available to enjoy the moment. Also, why not take Rocky’s advice for once? Yolo. 

“Are you sure?” 

Dongmin could swoon, honestly. Jaehyun was looking out for him, Jaehyun was  _ so nice.  _ He was so much better than fucking _ Moon Bin _ . Speaking of Moon Bin, fuck him, Dongmin was going to kiss nice Jaehyun. Maybe even  _ make out _ with nice Jaehyun. If he was lucky, potentially go home with nice Jaehyun. Take that, Moon Bin.

“You’re so nice,” Dongmin voiced. “I promise I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun smiled softly. “But just know that if you want to stop at any point, I won’t freak; just let me know, okay?” 

Dongmin put a hand on his heart. “God, you’re  _ so _ nice.” His chest felt warm. He took Jaehyun’s hand. They pushed through the crowd, and before Dongmin knew it, they were outside and they were kissing.

The air was cool, and Jaehyun’s lips were warm against his, and god, for a split second Dongmin felt  _ whole _ again. Jaehyun fit perfectly against him. He loved how Jaehyun’s fingers felt as they threaded through his hair. He smiled against Jaehyun’s mouth and deepened the kiss, his hands on Jaehyun’s waist. 

But suddenly Dongmin wasn’t Dongmin anymore, he was Eunwoo again. Jaehyun’s hands became Moon Bin’s, and Eunwoo shattered again from the inside out. Tears fell down his cheeks. The only indicator of their existence was their heat in comparison to the coolness of the air around him as they dried. They slipped onto his lips and the kiss tasted of salt. 

Jaehyun pulled back, gaze full of understanding, and just held Eunwoo as they sank to the ground together. Eunwoo sobbed. He apologized over and over, but Jaehyun never accepted any of the apologies. Instead, he stroked Eunwoo’s hair and told him that it would be okay.

The responsible part of Eunwoo told him that it wasn’t okay, that Jaehyun had no way of knowing if it would ever be okay. But the part of him that was Dongmin reached out and shut him up, and Eunwoo allowed Jaehyun to hold him and tell him the lies he needed to hear. 

Jaehyun helped him into a taxi, and left him with a soft, “Feel better, okay? I know how it feels.” In the gaze they exchanged, Eunwoo saw unspeakable pain, and he knew that Jaehyun  _ did _ know how it felt. And that just broke his heart a little bit more. Jaehyun was too  _ nice _ to feel something like this. Eunwoo cried harder as the taxi pulled away from the curb and took him back home. 

He stumbled up the stairs, exhausted, cheeks stretched tight with dried tears, eyes heavy and probably red. He practically fell against the door, struggling to pull out his keys. He found himself too tired to even unlock the door all the way, so he just left the key in the lock and slid down against the door. 

He was just plain lucky that his night owl college student neighbor was returning from a late study session at the library.

His neighbor unlocked the door for him. Eunwoo was being a burden again, so he hurriedly thanked the student and got out of his hair. He lay on his bed, so tired that he almost didn’t feel anything anymore.

He slowly managed to curl up in a nest of blankets. His throat felt funny. Eunwoo frowned, rubbing at it in frustration. He pushed himself upright, pulling the blankets around his shoulders as securely as he could. 

Tears dripped into his mouth, and Eunwoo choked on the salt. He began coughing, and he felt something coming up. He coughed and coughed until finally the thing dislodged from his throat and drifted down onto the duvet in front of him. He opened his eyes  —  crusty with dried tears and heavy with sleep  —  to see what he’d coughed up.

There, resting on his duvet, was a single, small petal. Bloodstained, condemning. Eunwoo knew what it meant. He looked at it, and felt nothing but emptiness. 

He had no heart left to break. 

* * *

Before there ever was a Cha Eunwoo, there was a Lee Dongmin.

Lee Dongmin and Cha Eunwoo had nothing in common, really. Cha Eunwoo was quiet, honest, put-together, a rising star, and later, hopelessly in love with one Moon Bin. Lee Dongmin, on the other hand, was a fierce big brother, the son of a business mogul, top of his class, and doing his best to pay his way into university so that he could leave his parents behind as soon as possible. 

Lee Dongmin was not necessarily shy. In fact, if you asked him, and if he were being honest, he would probably say that he was just awkward. But to many, he appeared to be nothing more than a standoffish, self-important boy, worthy of barely more than a glance. 

Lee Dongmin would tell you with a smile that his isolation did not bother him. Cha Eunwoo, long since come to terms with his childhood, would tell you that in fact it had haunted him, so much so that he feared speaking to other kids his age. 

Lee Dongmin’s life truly began the day that his mother came home from the hospital with his brother. Dongmin’s childhood had been a solitary one — roaming the estate he lived on practically alone as his parents traveled the globe with their exciting business partners, always looking for the next thrill. Nannies changed frequently, and it was clear through all their lessons on cooking and their refusal to spend too much time with him that he was being prepared to be independent.

The estate itself was not depressing. It was beautiful, with sweeping staircases, plush couches and armchairs, and all sorts of fun nooks and crannies to hide in. Huge windows let in sunlight and allowed the mansion’s sole year-round occupant to look out over the sprawling gardens. During springtime, the gardens allowed Dongmin to play for hours, enjoying the beauty of the many blooming flowers and the fun of the hedge maze behind the house. On days where he truly felt a lack of adventure, he could journey into the small woods just beyond the maze, where he spent his days climbing trees and dipping his toes in the ice-cold brook that was only really rushing during the rainy season.

But Dongmin had no one to share it with. Things lose their magic when it’s only you, enjoying them all alone. The quiet pervaded the house, the halls whispered behind his back, and the portraits on the wall stared down at him disapprovingly over their frames. 

The smallest creaks of the floorboards scared him, the drafts in the too-wide halls became his enemy. After all, Dongmin was only a child, left all alone in a house that was made of stone and glass and silence.

So, when his brother was carried up the stairs of the mansion and deposited in the waiting nanny’s arms, Dongmin was thrilled because he finally,  _ finally _ had someone to break the silence, to fill the halls with laughter, to grow up beside. 

A woman pulled him aside. “Now Dongmin, that’s your little brother, Lee Donghwi. Please take care of him, won’t you?”

Dongmin nodded seriously, but on the inside excitement was already beginning to bleed into his bones. Of course he could. The woman smiled. She adjusted the frames of her ruby-red glasses, smiled a saccharine smile, and turned to walk away from him. He stood alone on the stone steps, the woman leaving the scent of sickly sweet roses in her wake. It wasn’t until after she was gone that Dongmin was told that the woman had been his mother.

The last time he had seen her, he had barely been a year old. Now, he was four. 

* * *

When Dongmin was eight and Donghwi was four, Dongmin took him out alone into the gardens for the first time. It was an event that Dongmin planned out a month in advance. The morning of the momentous occasion, Dongmin clumsily helped Donghwi into his warmest coat, a small hat, and tiny gloves, and under the watchful eye of the staff, they waddled out into the garden, his small hand clutched tightly in Donghwi’s.

They wandered about, Donghwi chattering in Dongmin’s ear about everything exciting that he saw. They stopped to look at the frost on a leaf. They found some footprints in the new snow, probably from a raccoon or some other creature that had passed by in the night. They ran through the hedge maze together, their laughter mixing together as they bolted down the bushy passageways. They visited the brook, but it was far too cold to dip their toes in. 

Eventually, they began to tire, and they wandered back into the main gardens hand in hand. The flowers were all dormant thanks to the winter season, and the other plants were frozen brown. Dongmin found a stone bench and, with a bit of effort, helped hoist Donghwi onto it. After Donghwi was safe, he hopped up next to him, and together they sat in silence, looking across the garden. 

The grounds were frozen, crystallized, glittering in the weak winter sun. The plants remained unmoving, despite the wind whistling through the thin branches. The mansion loomed to their left, the dark gray stone almost ominous in its stature. The cold air rushed into Dongmin’s lungs and pushed the blood into his cheeks, and he felt far more awake. He reached to carefully take Donghwi’s hand in his own. For just a few more moments they held hands, and Dongmin treasured the warmth of his little brother in his palm. 

Ever so carefully, he hopped down and allowed Donghwi to follow just behind him as they made their way back to the mansion. Just before crossing the threshold, Dongmin paused. He stared up at the house with its gray stone, black trimmings, and empty hallways. He closed his eyes, squeezed his brother’s hand, and walked across the threshold once again.

* * *

When Dongmin was ten and Donghwi was six, Dongmin was sick of babysitting. Donghwi was energetic, bouncing and rushing all over the place. At ten, Dongmin was reaching the age where he simply couldn’t care less about anything outside of himself, much less the little brother who insistently hung off of him day and night. 

Dongmin was tired of Donghwi’s clinging. He was busy with school, and he had no time alone at home. He developed a habit of running off without telling Donghwi where he was going, leaving him alone with the current caretaker: Mrs. Kim.

Mrs. Kim was strict. She had no time for Donghwi’s antics nor Dongmin’s attempts to dump him with her. But despite her best efforts, Dongmin simply knew the lay of the land better — he had grown up on these grounds, but she had only become a member of the constantly-rotating staff a few months before. Time and again he was successful at leaving Mrs. Kim and his annoying younger brother behind. 

More often than not, Dongmin spent his hours alone in the woods, high up in an old oak tree, where two of the branches made a comfortable seat and he could complete his schoolwork. When he wasn’t doing his schoolwork up there, he looked at the sky, or over the tops of the other trees to see the birds flitting up out of the foliage and into the sky. 

The sunlight was blinding up there, but Dongmin maybe enjoyed that the most. Those days were calming hours of bliss spent barefoot, his jacket, shoes, and heavy backpack discarded on the grass below him.

When Dongmin came back to the estate one evening for dinner, he was greeted by a most uncomfortable sight indeed. His parents were seated at opposite ends of the dinner table, looking towards him expectantly. Mrs. Kim, standing in the doorway, fixed him with a look that could only be described as triumphant.

Donghwi squirmed in his seat, tugging at a bowtie that had clearly been hastily put around his throat. He froze in the doorway to the dining room, shocked. The last time that he had seen his mother had been at Donghwi’s birth, nearly six and a half years ago. As for his father? Dongmin had only seen him in pictures. 

His mother wore red, fingers circled around a wine glass. Red nails clicked on the glass as she leveled him a cold and calculating gaze. Her lips, painted red to match her nails, curled into something sickly sweet that resembled a smile, or  _ would _ resemble a smile if you had never seen a smile before. Her hair was perfect, pulled back into a harsh bun without a single strand out of place. 

His father was just as crisp. His suit was completely free of wrinkles, and the price of it, along with the gold of the watch on his wrist, displayed his wealth and his power. In person, his face was unreadable, even more inaccessible than in his pictures. Hard lines around his eyes suggested a life spent laughing, but Dongmin could not imagine this man ever smiling, much less  _ laughing _ . 

“Dongmin. Sit.” His voice was as unreadable as his face. 

They began to eat. 

“Dongmin, we hear that you are doing very well in school.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Mrs. Kim informs us that you have been quite opposed to taking honors courses. You will stop that nonsense.”

“Yes, Mother.”

They continued to eat. The food tasted like dust in Dongmin’s mouth.

“Son, we named you Dongmin for a reason. Utilize your brain, boy. It will be your greatest weapon when you grow older.”

“Yes, Father.”

They continued to eat. 

They finished eating. 

The chairs scraped back. His parents rose and left. 

After a tense moment, Dongmin rose as well. He traipsed up the staircase to the second floor, and went to his room. He sank into the chair behind his desk.

_ Son, we named you Dongmin for a reason. _

He drummed his fingers against a stray notebook, still laying out.  _ Dong-Min. The cleverness of the east.  _ He sighed. Honors courses, then.

Dongmin was struck by a realization. He did not have parents, however much he and the nannies had pretended, and for the first time he felt that loss keenly. The harsh winds of his parent’s words had no buffer. There was no established voice telling him they were, in fact, wrong to speak to him that way. There was no way for him to know that their failure was not his fault, and that it was okay to feel upset. 

No, there was no one there that night to tell Dongmin any of those things, so instead he pulled his knees up to his chest, unnerved at the feeling of loss that had washed over him at their words. He felt chilled right down to the bone. 

Then there was a knock at the door. Dongmin said nothing; Donghwi came in anyway. 

He blinked up at Dongmin, a tiny six-year-old with wide eyes, completely confused by what had just happened. “Dongminnie hyung,” he asked, his voice thin and wavering, “who were those people?” 

Dongmin’s heart broke. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, not really, but he swore that he would make sure that Donghwi  _ never _ felt it. 

He gathered his brother into his arms and held him close. He closed his eyes over Donghwi’s shoulder, and managed to choke out, “It’s not important, Donghwi. With luck, they’ll never come back.”

He would protect this child from the reality of their family for the next eight years. 

* * *

By the time Dongmin was thirteen and Donghwi was nine, Dongmin was making their meals, taking Donghwi to school, buying his clothes, and generally ensuring that Donghwi no longer had to rely on the staff of the mansion and by extension, their parents. 

Dongmin often thought that his name was ironic: He  _ was _ clever, cleverer than his parents knew. He took the honors courses they wanted only to ensure that he would qualify for scholarships. He slowly took money out of his father’s account for him and moved it into his own separate bank account with his own money. He loathed relying on his father’s money. He managed his time well so that he could take a job after school to save up for himself and Donghwi.

The job in question was easy work. He worked as a bagger at a local grocery store on the weekdays. What was more impressive was that he had gotten the job as a thirteen year old. 

Often he felt guilty for lying to his employers about his age — he knew they would get in trouble for employing a minor, even if that minor had a falsified work permit and had lied to them. But then he remembered Donghwi and any guilt he felt vanished. 

The more Dongmin worked, the more he was disliked at school. His daily exhaustion made him quieter, and many students misconstrued this silence as disdain or arrogance. 

“ _ There goes that Lee kid. _ ” The whispers would follow him down hallways and into classrooms. “ _ He thinks he’s better than everyone else, just because he’s rich _ .” People didn't even dare to walk the same direction as him after school, desperate not to be accidentally associated with him. 

Dongmin had neither energy nor will to correct them. He floated through the school days before picking up Donghwi, dropping him home, rushing to work and then rushing  _ back _ home to cook dinner for them. 

Dinners with Donghwi were always the best part of the day. The moment he arrived home, Donghwi would bound after him into the kitchen. Many of Dongmin’s evenings were spent throwing together a relatively healthy meal, Donghwi sitting on the counter and swinging his legs against the wooden cupboards as he chattered to Dongmin about his day. Dongmin would grin and listen to Donghwi’s musings all throughout dinner, occasionally adding in an anecdote or two. After eating, they’d clean up together. Donghwi tried clumsily to help as Dongmin swiftly put the plates and cups away. 

The evening would grow quiet, the two of them settling in at the dining room table to do homework side by side. The sound of pencils scratching against paper echoed in the huge room, alongside Dongmin’s soft voice as he helped Donghwi. Once Donghwi finished, Dongmin would often play huge games of hide and seek or tag in the empty mansion, or leave Donghwi to his own devices, as long as he was doing something fun, like coloring or imaginary games with his plush animals.

They would get ready for bed together, taking showers, getting into pajamas and brushing their teeth side by side in the mirror. Then Dongmin would carefully tuck his brother into bed and read him a bedtime story. As Dongmin’s voice drifted softly, Donghwi’s eyes would quietly begin to droop and grow heavy with sleep. Dongmin would close the book quietly and smile softly at his tired brother.

And every night, without fail, he would say, “Good night, Donghwi. You know I love you, don’t you?” And then he would leave, the door clicking shut quietly behind him. 

* * *

When Dongmin was sixteen and Donghwi was twelve, their parents visited again for the first time since that fateful night nearly six years ago. 

It went like this: Dongmin, entering the house first, noticed the piles of luggage in the expansive foyer and froze in his tracks. Donghwi crashed into his back. Dongmin panicked before spinning around to face Donghwi. He stooped down to him and said,

“Donghwi. Listen to me very, very carefully. You know our treehouse? The one down by the river, where we’ve had sleepovers before?”

Donghwi nodded. It was impossible to forget. They built the treehouse themselves one hot summer day when they had nothing else to do, the kind old gardener assisting them. They cut the lengths of wood and nailed them together in the branches themselves. The treehouse wasn’t just made with wood, but with the memories of carefree laughter. It was often illuminated by the sunlight that shone through the foliage and refracted off the jumping brook beneath the tree they had chosen, the same brook that years previously, Dongmin dipped his toes in all alone.

The planks in the walls weren’t all cut evenly, and they’d never gotten to paint it or make it anything more than a crudely constructed hideout, but it was sturdy and safe, and sleeping bags and pillows were there from their last campout under the stars. Most importantly, it was hidden, and their parents knew nothing about it. 

“Go there, okay?” Dongmin’s voice dropped to a whisper, playing a little bit on Donghwi’s sense of adventure when he continued. “I think there’s an intruder in the house, and I really need you to be safe. So promise me you’ll stay in the treehouse until I come to get you?”

Donghwi nodded, still in his school clothes, his hands clutching the straps of his backpack, filled with heavy books. “I’ll make sure to get there as fast as possible, Dongmin,” he said seriously. “I won’t let you down, and I’ll save a sleeping bag for you.”

Dongmin smiled. “Okay. Now hurry!” Donghwi gave a small salute, and turned to go around the house and into the forest to their safe place. Just as he was about out of sight, Dongmin called after him.

“Donghwi!”

He turned back to Dongmin, a question in his eyes.

“I love you!”

Donghwi grinned, shot him a finger heart back, and vanished amongst the trees. Relieved, Dongmin sighed as he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. With Donghwi safe, he turned to the door and entered the lion’s den, this time, alone. 

The sight of his mother and father in the dining room was unwelcome, but not unexpected at this junction. His mother smiled, empty as always. His father offered no such pleasantry.

“Dongmin.”

“Father.” He fell into a ninety degree bow. When he rose, his father looked oddly gratified, which served only to irritate Dongmin further.

“Where is Donghwi?” Dongmin’s blood ran cold. His mother’s smile, growing more sinister by the minute, etched itself into his brain.

“He’s not at home right now, mother. The parents of one of his classmates are hosting a study session in preparation for his final exams. I have studied the content, but I am not an expert. The parent in question is, and has offered his services to all children in the class. I thought it beneficial that Donghwi attend.”

His father tilted his head, as though considering, and then pulled his hands from underneath the table to fold them carefully. Dongmin breathed out as slowly as possible. His father smiled. They were safe.

“Well-judged of you, Dongmin. It is a relief that your brother’s education is your top priority.”

Dongmin inclined his head, fuming beneath the surface. “I would not allow anything else, considering I care for my brother and his future.” Bitterness he had not intended to show colored his tone, slight but there, and to Dongmin’s horror, it did not go unnoticed by his father. His smile slipped off his face, and his hands slid out of view.

“Tread carefully in what you imply.” His tone was harsh, and it cut to Dongmin’s eardrums that much harder in the silence of the dining room.

“Yes, father. I deeply apologize.” 

Silence fell once more. His mother looked nearly bored. Dongmin rubbed his thumb against his palm behind his back. 

“What are your plans this evening, Dongmin?” 

A chance. Dongmin jumped to take it.

“I have a study session to attend, final exams being so close. It is my intention to maintain perfect marks, to live up to your expectations for me.” He inclined his head, and his father once again looked quite pleased. 

_ A fool _ , Dongmin thought. 

“Then we shall not keep you longer,” Dongmin’s father brought his hands into view to push up from the table, rising above Dongmin’s height. “Your mother and I have a flight in approximately four hours to Dubai for an important business deal.”

“A shame,” Dongmin said. “Neither of our study sessions will be complete before then. I wish you safe travels.” He inclined his head to them in turn. “Mother. Father.” 

No more words were available, and none were needed. Dongmin turned on his heel and left the room, then the house. Before long was sprinting through the woods to the treehouse, where he ensconced Donghwi in his arms.

“Was it an intruder?” Donghwi whispered. 

“Yeah, two,” Dongmin breathed back out. “But they’ll be gone soon. I called the police. They told me to wait here for five hours, at least.” A lie, but one to save Donghwi, even if only for a little bit longer. “Goodnight, Donghwi. You know I love you, don’t you?”

Donghwi nodded. They fell asleep that way, Dongmin’s arms wrapped protectively around him, eyes turned upward to the stars.

* * *

When Dongmin was eighteen and Donghwi was fourteen, Donghwi made a mistake that he could not have known was a mistake.

It had been years of Dongmin caring for Donghwi, and he didn’t plan on stopping now. With every year that passed he had accumulated more and more funds for himself and Donghwi to go to college, and his dependence on his parents lessened further. 

But one day, just a few months before Dongmin was planning to run and take Donghwi with him, everything fell apart. His carefully laid plans, his years of saving and caring: it was all for nothing.

The day had started off as normal as any other. Dongmin went home late from work. He was feeling pretty happy; he’d been promoted and would be making an awful lot more than before. Their freedom was so close, he could taste it. The dark sky was filled with stars and endless opportunity, and he hummed to himself as he made his way home. 

He approached the mansion and unlocked the door, calling inside: “Donghwi! I’m home!”

He was met with only silence. He frowned. Normally, he was greeted by at least some kind of shout or by Donghwi sticking his head in the room to welcome Dongmin home, but instead, all was eerily quiet. 

A little bit unnerved, Dongmin set his keys down and carefully took his bag off of his shoulder, creeping towards the kitchen.

“Donghwi? Are you hiding?” Dongmin frowned, beginning to get worried and afraid when Donghwi still did not respond to his calls. “Donghwi, I’m serious, this isn’t funny.”

He rounded the corner and ventured towards the dining room. He heard muffled voices and sighed in relief, hurrying inside. “Donghwi, thank god —” His voice died on his tongue. He was looking into the angry gaze of his father. 

Dongmin skidded to a halt, shocked and completely thrown. “F-Father, what —”

“Do not speak to me. I am not your father.” Dongmin stepped back. The words he had long known to be true cut deep nonetheless. 

“Father, I don’t understand.” Dongmin tried to remain calm, but his father slammed a hand on the table. He pushed himself to stand, fury radiating from his figure. 

“Dongmin. Explain yourself,” his father bit out, and threw an envelope down on the table. Dongmin paled.

“Ah, so you know what it is.” Dongmin’s father’s tone was mocking and cruel. “Imagine my surprise when, instead of a lovely, pleasing update on my two sons, my lifeblood, I hear from the head maid that she found  _ this _ in the mail.”

Dongmin closed his eyes and felt hot tears begin to sting his eyes and coat his throat. The bank statements. The money that he’d been saving for so long. He’d told Donghwi to get the mail, but he must have forgotten, and how could Donghwi have known how important it was? Yes, Dongmin had told him it was important, but he hadn’t been specific, and Donghwi was only fourteen, for god’s sake. His secret was right there, spelled out in numbers. Dongmin had been funnelling funds away to a private bank account that shouldn’t exist.

He blinked tears from his eyes. “Father,” he said, ready to make his plea, but his father silenced him with his hand, fire burning in his eyes. 

“Planning on running away, when we’ve given you everything? You are not my son. Get out of my house.”

“Father —” His gaze cut at Dongmin. “Mr. Lee,” he corrected himself. “Please, let me see Donghwi one last time before I go —”

“No. I won’t have you poisoning his mind against this family.” His father looked furious, eyes flashing like lightning. “Get out.” 

The tears spilled. Dongmin couldn’t help but sob. His father’s lip curled in disdain. “Pathetic,” he spat. “If I ever catch you bearing the name Lee again, there will be hell to pay.”

Dongmin choked on the salt of his tears and turned tail, running out of the dining room for the last time. He grabbed his bag, but left his keys and rushed out. Just outside, he turned back.

The mansion loomed in the dark, cold and unforgiving, and the stars didn’t feel as bright as they had before. Dongmin tried to swallow back his tears, but he couldn’t stop them from falling. He wiped his hand across his eyes again and again, but he simply couldn’t stop mourning what he’d almost had.

“Donghwi,” he whispered into the night. He clutched the strap of his bag, screwed his eyes shut and prayed to a god he’d never believed in that Donghwi would hear him, one last time. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

* * *

He withdrew his funds from the bank and survived, but it was four years before he saw Donghwi again, four long years without the brother that he’d raised on his back. 

Lee Dongmin couldn’t stand the name he was given. He wanted nothing from his parents. The day he left, Dongmin died and Eunwoo was born from the ashes. 

For so long, Eunwoo had been his armor, his shield, his safety net. But with the arrival of this petal, Dongmin could feel that Eunwoo was beginning to crumble, and that scared Dongmin more than he would care to admit.

But he’d always taken things one step at a time, so he supposed he’d just have to take this one painful step at a time, too, at least until he died.

Oh, well. At least he’d finally be able to stop running. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And.... yeah, it's really underway now. See what I meant when I said this is 100% a kdrama???
> 
> anyway i hope you enjoyed the chapter!! thank you for reading! i hope that you leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed!!
> 
> until next week,  
> Robin  
> (@sanhascroissant on twt)


	6. Chapter 6

The day after the first petal, going to the company was near torture. Eunwoo forced himself out of bed, eyes heavy and exhausted. His lips were dry, his skin greasy, his face puffy. He felt like death warmed over. A perpetual itch had taken up residency in his throat. 

He was brushing his teeth when it happened — a weak cough forced Eunwoo to stop to allow the petals to flutter down and flatten themselves to the sides of the sink. As he watched, they began to wilt. The small blue things were so beautiful. Eunwoo just couldn’t bring himself to hate them. 

He just wiped them from his lips and sighed, pushing onward. 

By the time he was sitting at breakfast, the members sitting around him, he wore a face mask around his neck, ready for anything. Jinwoo was gesticulating, telling some story of a dog he had seen on his way back from the store the day before. Eunwoo, exhausted and hungover, tried his best to pay attention despite his headache. Sanha listened carefully to Jinwoo while Rocky ate his eggs, uninterested. Bin seemed unfocused, a smile on his lips.

“Did I tell you guys what Hani texted me earlier?” Bin interrupted. Jinwoo frowned, his arms still up and mouth still open. Rocky’s gaze flickered up from his eggs; it held a certain annoyance that Eunwoo wasn’t used to seeing from him. Sanha’s gaze moved to hold Eunwoo’s for a moment before darting down towards his feet. Bin seemed unaware and blathered on. “Because it was just adorable, and —”

Eunwoo’s throat closed. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to stop it, but there was no use. He pulled up the face mask, coughing quietly as possible. The cough sent a small jolt through him as his throat filled with itching petals. He closed his eyes. Bin’s voice was still piercing, shrill, and Eunwoo had to resist the urge to cover his ears. 

“Hey Bin, why don’t you shut the fuck up for just a second?” Rocky’s voice cut through the clamor. “Eunwoo’s coughing, if you didn’t notice.” 

Bin’s voice immediately stopped. Eunwoo, eyes still screwed closed and mouth still full of petals, felt a tentative hand on his shoulder. Rocky. 

“Eunwoo, are you okay?” Sanha’s voice was really shaky, and god, Eunwoo was being a burden  _ again _ . “You look really pale and sick. You should see a doctor.”

Eunwoo just forced himself to smile, to look up, to make his eyes crinkle up at the corners. He opened his mouth carefully, letting some of the petals drift out into the face mask before he answered. “Oh, Sanha, don’t worry. I just woke up feeling a little under the weather, that’s all. I’m sure it’s just a nasty cold.”

Across the table, Jinwoo looked deeply concerned. “Still, Eunwoo, I don’t think you should be at work today. Go see a doctor and get some medicine, alright?”

Eunwoo considered protesting, and then considered the fact that he now had a ready-made excuse to avoid Bin for the rest of the day. His concerned expression next to Jinwoo was oppressive. 

Eunwoo put his acting degree to good use. He sighed, making his frustration clear through his eyes. “Fine. But when they tell me it’s just a cold, I’ll be able to say ‘I told you so’,” he said with just the right touch of petulance. Jinwoo seemed satisfied. 

“Just go, Eunwoo. It would make us all feel better. You can even say ‘I told you so’ if you’re right.” Eunwoo huffed and pushed away from the table, rolling his eyes just dramatically enough for it to be believable. He stalked into the hall, grabbing his coat. As he struggled to put it on, he failed to notice Bin’s sock-footed approach until Bin stood directly in front of him. 

“Eunwoo?”

His gaze darted up, and sure enough, there was Bin — barely awake, hair mussed and soft. His shirt was beginning to slip off of one shoulder. It was so adorable, Eunwoo had to fight off a soft smile beneath the mask. 

“Oh, Bin. You surprised me.” Eunwoo straightened with his last shoe on. The weak morning light streamed into the hallway, giving Bin a soft sort of halo. He bit his lip and hugged Eunwoo tight. 

“I’m really sorry for talking about myself when you were in pain.” Eunwoo could hear the apology in his voice. 

He sighed. “It’s alright, Bin. I’ll see you around, okay?” He slowly untangled himself from the embrace and turned to leave through the unlocked door, forcing himself to keep his gaze trained on the ground, rather than on Bin. 

Needless to say, he didn’t go to the doctor. 

* * *

Luckily, Eunwoo felt better the next day. A little less like death warmed over and more like he just hadn’t slept enough last night. Yeah, Hanahaki was bad, but it was a progressive disease. It didn’t _ start out  _ bad. Eunwoo figured he mostly had the drunken night out to blame for the day before.

Not only did he feel better, but the members also seemed relieved at his recovery when he woke them the following morning. Life continued on as usual with the added pressure of Moon Bin sneaking around to visit Hani. Eunwoo’s chest squeezed just a bit every time Bin winked at him on the way out the door or recounted an anecdote about her, but that was easy enough to endure, for now. Best of all, he hadn’t gotten to the point of actually coughing up any more petals yet.

No, it was all business as usual. Days turned to weeks, and before long, ASTRO had reached the end of the promotional circuit. Already they found themselves back in meetings with the CEO, reviewing the plans laid out for their first comeback. 

To Eunwoo’s relief, he managed to convince the stylists that Jinwoo’s hair looked better without a blue streak in his bangs, and that maybe Sanha could do with less constant hair curling — the poor boy’s hair had to be close to fried at this rate. 

ASTRO began their hiatus with Jinwoo in the studio with the producers, helping to make the music for the b-sides as the others began to learn the title track’s choreography and melody. The CEO wanted a mini-album produced and ready to go within the month, and the title track ready to film before that. 

Eunwoo watched on in worry. All of their schedules took a hit, but Jinwoo in particular worked almost through the night to catch up on the choreography and rap parts that he had missed while in the studio working on music.

Eunwoo tried once to get him to take it down a notch, but Jinwoo was having none of it, adamant that he had to prove he could handle it, or fear being taken off the production team. “Music is my dream, Eunwoo,” he said. Eunwoo could see the desperation in his gaze. “I can’t give it up for replication. I have to have a hand in this myself. Sanha’s a singer, and Bin and Rocky are dancers. They can already pursue their dreams. This one is mine.”

Eunwoo backed off after that, but that didn’t stop him from leaving extra portions of breakfast and dinner in the dorm’s refrigerator so that Jinwoo could eat whenever he had a free hour.

Considering Jinwoo’s increased hours at the company, their daily dinners were often late or went on without him present. But on this particular Friday night, they were all gathered around the table together, MJ included, enjoying Eunwoo’s homemade chicken noodle soup. 

The conversation was lively, but before long, as conversations with close friends often do, especially late at night after a good meal, the conversation turned to a serious topic, one Eunwoo desperately wanted to avoid — soulmates.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Sanha said, smiling happily. “I like the fact that there’s someone out there who shares the other half of my soul. It’s so  _ romantic .” _

Bin scoffed, and Eunwoo’s stomach dropped.

“Something to say, Moon Bin?” Jinwoo, thank god, didn’t look impressed. 

“I just think it’s ridiculous,” Bin said, looking at all of them. Sanha seemed shocked, Jinwoo and MJ mildly upset. For Eunwoo’s part, he tried his best to imitate Rocky — impassive as ever. “People don’t meet their soulmates that often, and even if I were to meet my soulmate, why should I date and marry them just because the universe or God or  _ whatever _ told me to?”

MJ frowned, but he clearly tried to stay respectful as he said, “Well, nobody’s saying that you have to marry your soulmate. And you’re right, most people don’t meet them. But those who have met are usually quite happy — and the soul bond doesn’t even form unless you choose them, unless you fall in love with them.” MJ shrugged, taking a sip from his half-empty wine glass. “I just don’t think the soulmate system is as oppressive and awful as you’re making it out to be.”

“Oh, so if someone came along who was your soulmate you’d just believe you were meant to be, and that’s that?” Bin scoffed.

“For god’s sake, Bin, you know that’s not what MJ was saying,” Jinwoo said mildly. Sanha, recovering from his shock, began to look more upset. MJ, too, was frowning now. “You’re just biased against it because you’re dating someone right now — someone who’s not your soulmate.”

“I’d think the same way regardless,” Bin insisted. He took a drink, rolling his eyes. “To make a long story short, the soulmate system didn’t work out so great for my parents.” 

Suddenly, Eunwoo couldn’t hold back a choked cough. All eyes at the table swung towards him. To his horror, he felt the petals coat the back of his throat.

“Excuse me,” he managed, and then he rushed down the hall. He locked the bathroom door shut and coughed violently, the petals falling from his mouth into the sink, speckled with blood. 

“Eunwoo? Eunwoo!” There was a banging at the door, accompanied by a voice that was distinctly Bin’s, laced with worry and mild panic, and dear god, couldn’t Eunwoo catch a break? “Eunwoo, are you okay?” Bracing himself against the sink, Eunwoo met eyes with himself in the mirror. He looked gaunt. Tired. 

“Eunwoo?” The voice raised a pitch, becoming more panicked. 

“I’m fine.” He leaned closer to the mirror. It was strange to see himself like this. Paler. Older. He straightened, hastily washing the petals down the drain before turning to the door. “Just a cough.”

He pulled it open. Bin hovered close, practically radiating concern as Eunwoo walked back down the hallway to the table. The others watched anxiously, but Eunwoo waved them away. “Seriously, it’s just a cough.”

Reluctantly, they turned back to their drinks. Barely a moment had passed before Bin spoke up. “Anyway, as I was saying, soulmates —”

Eunwoo slammed his glass back down onto the table. “Let’s stop talking about this.”

“What?” Bin looked shocked. “Why?”

“You and I have some pretty fundamental differences in our beliefs about this topic,” Eunwoo said, already feeling the petals threatening to come up again. “I think it would be best to let it drop.”

“You aren’t serious?” Bin sounded incredulous, and Eunwoo squeezed his eyes shut. “Minnie, come on. You’re the most practical person I know, I thought for sure you would agree.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t,” Eunwoo snapped. Bin leaned back in his seat, taken aback. “I just…” Eunwoo swallowed, staring down at the table. “I think soul bonds are beautiful. They connect two people who love one another. They’re not some kind of removal of free will, like you seem to believe. It’s just like any other great love.” Eunwoo lifted his gaze to meet Bin’s. “If you ever find your soulmate, I think that you should make the most of it. Love them with all you have while you have the chance. You never know when you’re going to run out of time.” 

His vision grew blurry. An almost deathly silence had fallen over the table, none of them daring to move an millimeter. 

“Well,” Eunwoo said awkwardly, moving to put his bowl in the sink. “I think I’ll head home. I’ll see you all Monday morning.”

He headed into the hall. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but hear Rocky’s harshly hissed comment. “Jesus, Bin, think before you speak. He’s clearly lost his soulmate, or knows someone who has. Can you be considerate for three seconds?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that!?” 

Eunwoo closed his eyes and pulled the front door open, stepping out into the cold.

* * *

After the disastrous dinner, Eunwoo couldn’t help but draw back into himself a bit. His chest ached and his bones only became heavier with each day that passed. For a while, the members and MJ let him be, assuming that Bin’s tactless comments had dredged up memories of a past soulmate who was now dead. Though that couldn’t be further from the truth — in fact, Eunwoo appreciated the irony — he never bothered to correct them. It was easier this way.

His new distance from Bin didn’t stop the progression of the disease as he had secretly hoped. Instead it rather exacerbated it. 

To add more problems to his ever-growing list, it seemed that distancing himself didn’t work as well as he had hoped — it wasn’t long before the others decided that he’d had enough space, and it was time for him to open up to them again. Their cajoling and concern only made Eunwoo feel guiltier as he desperately tried to pull away. It wouldn’t do them any good to be friends with a man who was destined to die. He’d only hurt them.

But despite his best efforts, Eunwoo found himself being dragged back in against his will. Even if he refused to talk about anything other than work with MJ, that didn’t stop him from chattering to Eunwoo about every minor detail in his day as he sat at the opposite desk. His silence on walks didn’t stop Jinwoo from asking after him, or stop Sanha asking if he was okay. His silence only seemed to spur Rocky on. He seemed only too happy to sit in silence with him for hours watching a movie or playing a video game, hanging out at the practice rooms or in the company’s cafeteria. 

Even Bin managed to worm his way back into Eunwoo’s life, telling him everything, treating him as a close friend and confidante even as Eunwoo refused to reciprocate. It was aggravating — though Bin was right there in front of him, waxing poetic about his beautiful girlfriend, he felt simultaneously a million miles away, completely out of Eunwoo’s reach. 

Through it all, he felt himself begin to weaken. Breathing became more difficult, his eyes often swollen and red. His appetite dropped. He grew more tired, his cheeks starting to hollow out. His skin turned sallow. Each mention of Hani’s name was like a personal affront to the flowers blooming in his lungs, and Eunwoo’s coughs only became more violent.

Of course, this couldn’t be kept from the members, so instead he tried to wave their concerns off, citing cold after cold, saying he was simply under the weather thanks to the winter season. They seemed to accept it, though they always encouraged him to go to the doctor.

Eunwoo promised each time that he would.

He never did.

Everyone knew there was no cure for Hanahaki, and everyone also knew there wasn’t even any research. Eunwoo knew what would happen if his lungs were scanned. He knew the laws in Korea about Hanahaki victims. Hanahaki victims never wanted to be saved — they were considered incompetent by the court, a danger to themselves. They could be admitted to hospitals for testing and experimental treatments against their will. Eunwoo remembered reading about it in law school.

He didn’t want to die a lab rat. 

The only real chance at salvation was for Moon Bin to love him back. But as Bin grew closer to Hani every day, Eunwoo saw the light in his eyes as he told Eunwoo all about her, observed the smile that tugged on Bin’s lips when he got a text from her… Well. Clearly, such a thing was impossible. 

It grew more painful every day. Cold began to seep into Eunwoo’s bones. No amount of coats or blankets could keep the chill out — deep down, Eunwoo registered that he longed for the warmth of another person’s body. Even  _ deeper _ down, he struggled to admit that it wasn’t just any random person. Just one very specific person who happened to own the other half of his soul.

Bin’s carefree confidences, shared so often and so honestly with Eunwoo, became more and more of a burden. It was hard to hear his soulmate tell him all about how happy he was with someone else. 

Eunwoo bore it gracefully for a while, lending an ear whenever Bin wanted. But the longer it went on, the more he tried to get out of it. Before long Bin picked up on Eunwoo’s reluctance.

“Minnie, I just don’t understand why you’re avoiding me.”

_ You’re my soulmate, but all you want to do is talk to me about your gi rlfriend.  _

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are. It’s so obvious. Come on, Dongmin, you thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Something squeezed tight in Eunwoo’s chest at the mention of that name. “It’s Eunwoo.”

“What?”

“Not important. Listen, I’m busy, okay? I’m your manager. At the end of the day, I’m trying to make sure that you guys all have schedules and are employed, and that comes before being your friend. I’d be doing you a disservice if it didn’t.”

“Yes, but —”

“Bin.” Eunwoo’s voice came out more forcefully than he would have liked. “I don’t always want to talk about Hani.”

Silence.

“Oh my god. Jesus, I’ve been so inconsiderate. Just waxing poetic about my girlfriend when your soulmate —”

The petals were back with a vengeance before Bin could finish. Eunwoo doubled over, barely tugging a face mask on before a cough ripped through his chest, expelling the bloodstained flowers violently. He was vaguely aware of Bin’s hand on his shoulder as he coughed it all out. 

His bones felt brittle, like they would snap if such a violent movement were to happen again. His heart beat weakly as the coughing slowed enough for Bin to help him sit in his desk chair. 

“Minnie, you’re really sick.” Bin looked stricken. “I know you’ve been saying it’s not serious, but how can that possibly not be serious? You would have collapsed if I hadn’t held you up.”

“Just a mild bout of pneumonia,” Eunwoo insisted, already trying to stand, waving Bin off. It didn’t seem to help Bin feel any better. He had gone pale, watching Eunwoo with horror. “It’s not contagious, so don’t worry about it.” 

“Honestly, you being contagious was the last thing on my mind.” Bin worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “I really don’t think you should be working right now.”

Eunwoo snorted. “I’m an adult. I think I can make that decision myself, don’t you?”

Bin swallowed, nodding, and took the dismissal for what it was. “Yeah … I’m so sorry, Min — Eunwoo. I won’t bother you again.” He turned and left, and Eunwoo collapsed back into the chair.

Thank god Bin had left — another minute and he would have almost certainly fainted. 

He just sat there, too exhausted to move. The passage of time was marked only by the steady ticking of the clock on the wall, and the pace of his breaths as he breathed slowly.

“Eunwoo?” He was jerked out of his reverie by Sanha, who peeked around the door before seeing him. “Are you ready to go home? The others are long gone, it’s super late!” Eunwoo checked the time. Sanha was right — it was well past midnight. Sanha didn’t slow down. “They ordered takeout. Bin said you needed a break, but you’re here so late, that can’t be good! Just come to the dorms tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed, alright?”

For a long moment there was silence. Eunwoo felt a pain deep inside his chest, and for a moment he was scared that it was the petals again. But no coughs came. As he blinked up at Sanha, who was smiling with care and concern plain as day in his eyes, Eunwoo felt suddenly overwhelmed.

Before he could stop himself, his eyes welled up with tears that spilled onto his cheeks. Sanha darted to sit beside Eunwoo, slinging an arm around his shoulders. 

“Eunwoo! Are you okay?”

The light from the windows had long gone, the sun ducking behind the horizon to make way for the moon. Eunwoo was reminded of countless nights just like this when Sanha had been too tired and weighed down by the expectations of everyone, including himself. He would hold Sanha in his arms, just as Sanha was holding him now, and let him cry until there were no more tears left.

It felt wrong to let Sanha do the same for him. It was his job to take care of Sanha. He was older, he was his manager, his friend, someone for Sanha to rely on and to draw strength from. But here, late at night and all alone, the flowers felt more like weeds in his throat and he couldn’t help but accept Sanha’s hug and whispered words of comfort.

“Sanha —”

“You don’t have to explain.” Sanha’s voice was raspy, barely there. Eunwoo could see his eyes glittering in the low light. “I already know. About the … about the flowers.” Sanha stumbled over his words. Eunwoo froze. 

“How …?”

“I’m more observant than you think.” Sanha chuckled, but it was hollow and empty. “I watch you a lot, hyung. I look up to you, you know. So I noticed the face masks, and the fact that you never seem to get better. I thought at first that you were telling the truth about the colds, but then I found a petal.”

Sanha closed his eyes, arms tightening around Eunwoo’s shoulders. “Forget-me-nots.” His voice was choked and thick. Eunwoo felt a stray tear, hot and wet, splash down past his cheek from Sanha’s eyes above him. “Hyung, I could  _ never _ forget you, none of us could, and we wouldn’t want to. So please don’t think for even a single moment that we would, or that we should.”

Eunwoo couldn’t say anything, shedding tears filled with fondness for this boy who reminded him so much of Donghwi. His head hurt, and his heart was already raw enough, so he tried to shift, to reassure Sanha that everything was okay.

Sanha didn’t relent, holding his arms as steady as ever as the two of them cried together. 

“Sanha,” Eunwoo gasped out between the tears. “Sanha, you listen to me, alright? This is my burden to bear. I need you to promise you won’t tell the others.”

“Hyung, I won’t, with one condition.” Sanha was deadly serious as he moved just a little bit away from Eunwoo, meeting his eyes. “We’re your friends. When I cried, you held me, right? Why would you do that? Wasn’t I being a burden?”

“You could never,” Eunwoo brought his hand up and placed it on Sanha’s shoulder. “I love you, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if it made you feel better.”

“Well, hyung, I love you too,” Sanha said, smiling softly, the tear tracks on his cheeks highlighted by the moonlight. “Friendship is a sharing of burdens by nature. So this is my condition — don’t suffer alone.”

“Okay,” Eunwoo said, bewildered. “I won’t.”

“I’m serious,” Sanha said. “I won’t tell Bin hyung or anyone else, but I think you should tell them. Let us take some of this from you. You don’t have to do this all by yourself.”

“I can’t,” Eunwoo whispered. There were no words to explain this; no words to explain what it felt like to look death in the face. No words to tell Sanha what he wanted to hear; no words to explain to him Eunwoo’s own pride, the desperate desire not to be seen as someone who died because they were so unlovable. There weren’t words, so Eunwoo settled for, “Sanha, I’m sorry, I  _ c an’t .” _

Sanha looked crestfallen, but regardless, he set his mouth in a firm line. “Then please at least stop avoiding everyone. It’s not doing anything besides making the others more worried, and therefore a lot more likely to pry.” Sanha paused and swallowed, leaning back in and wrapping his arms around Eunwoo once more.

“Can you do that much?”

“For you, Sanha,” Eunwoo said, eyes watery and cheeks stretched taut with salt. “I’ll try. ”


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, Eunwoo let MJ drag him along to the café to get pastries. He was still a bit quieter than usual — coughing up the petals yesterday had left an ache in the back of his throat — but he reciprocated MJ’s smiles and let him talk his ear off with no complaints. Jinwoo seemed relieved when Eunwoo actually engaged him in conversation. He even rolled his eyes at Eunwoo across the table when Sanha and Rocky started bickering at dinner, reestablishing the camaraderie between them like it had never been interrupted.

Sanha shot him a grateful look across the table. Eunwoo pretended not to see it, instead striking up a quiet, easy back and forth with Rocky. Eventually, Bin even approached him and they talked for a while about something that wasn’t Hani, and Eunwoo’s heart swelled.

After that, his days were filled with pastries at all hours, enjoyable times at the office, warm nights and home cooking, and Eunwoo felt happier. The hanahaki never went away; it always got worse, aggravated every time he looked at Bin and remembered that he could never be with him, but the warmth of friendship helped stave some of it off, giving Eunwoo something to try to live for. 

But as things tend to do, they could not help but go wrong. Just a few weeks after Eunwoo’s return to the group, Hani and Bin broke up.

He didn’t tell them how it happened, or why, but anyone could see that Bin was absolutely devastated. When he was home, his eyes were ringed with red, but more often than not, he was  _ not _ home. At first, Eunwoo thought he was just getting some space — walking around the park, taking it easy at work while his heart recovered from the blow. 

But then the first tabloid article came out. It was worse than dating. Moon Bin was going out — letting loose, so to speak — and the places he was going weren’t exactly classy. 

Horrified, Eunwoo had promised to give him a stern talking to, and they had. He and Jinwoo had sat Bin down at the kitchen table and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to stop such behavior immediately. Bin had looked at them from across the table, eyes dark with resentment and heartbreak, and told them he would do what he wanted, and good luck to them to try to stop him.

Furious, Jinwoo stood and yelled back at him that if he didn’t want the responsibility, he could damn well leave ASTRO for all he cared. Bin sat there, eyes terrifyingly empty, and told Jinwoo he might.

Eunwoo, heart beating a hundred miles a minute in his chest, pushed Jinwoo back into his seat. He turned back to Bin and told him not to throw his hard work away over a girl. Bin looked away, but he promised to be more careful.

He was, after that, but not careful enough. Eunwoo could smell the streets on his coats. He didn’t know if Bin was wandering aimlessly, or if he was drinking, what he was doing — but it wore on him, the worry eating at him from the inside out.

It seemed to be under control for a while. Bin still went out, but he usually returned within the hour. When he didn’t, he texted Eunwoo, who often went to collect him from random roadside corners and park benches. It scared Eunwoo to see Bin like this; eyes empty and vacant in his face from where he sat in the passenger seat as Eunwoo drove him home for the third time that week. He’d been at a convenience store on the other side of the city. Eunwoo didn’t even know how he got there. It felt like he was losing Bin; that only terrified him more, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

Besides his and Jinwoo’s strained relationship with Bin, Sanha was increasingly unwilling to spend long periods of time with him. He threw disapproving looks Bin’s way each time he came home late or they had to practice without him. Sanha was too much of a sweetheart to ever go full confrontation mode, but Rocky had no such reservations.

One day Eunwoo returned to the dorms a bit late, having stopped by the local grocery store for some dinner ingredients, and was greeted by muffled shouting. He deposited the groceries in the kitchen and hurried down the hallway, catching the tail end of a heated argument.

In the living room, Bin and Rocky stood on opposite sides of the couch, faces dark with fury. MJ stood between them, trying his best to mediate. Sanha and Jinwoo were silent, but they stood by Rocky’s side, looking no less irritated than Rocky himself. 

“Eunwoo is still sick!” Rocky screamed. “He doesn’t need your bullshit on top of that!”

Bin didn’t respond, only glaring down at the floor, but Eunwoo saw the furrow in his brow deepen before he turned tail and walked out, walking right past Eunwoo to do so.

Rocky snarled, angry, and threw himself onto the couch. Eunwoo went to sit beside him as MJ turned to leave the room, presumably going after Bin. Sanha and Jinwoo looked to one another and, seemingly reaching an agreement, followed suit.

“He’s being selfish,” Rocky hissed as the door clicked shut behind them. Eunwoo stayed silent, letting Rocky get it all out. “Running around the city, and dragging you along. It’s inconsiderate!”

“Yes, it is,” Eunwoo acknowledged serenely. Rocky fumed silently for another moment, arms crossed petulantly over his chest. “Why aren’t you more upset? You have every right to be. In fact, you should be pissed at that asshole.” Rocky’s lip curled.

Eunwoo sighed, shifting a little so that he was looking more directly at Rocky. “I could be,” he said. “But I understand that Bin is going through something really difficult right now. The person he loves doesn’t love him back anymore — of course he’s going to be going through some grief. He needs time.” Rocky opened his mouth to argue, but Eunwoo raised his hand. “I’m not excusing what he’s been doing,” Eunwoo said. “He needs time, but there are healthier ways to deal with this. Jinwoo and I have been talking to him. That’s our job to do.” Eunwoo smiled a bit, squeezing Rocky’s arm. “I appreciate you going to bat for me, Minhyuk, but I promise that it’s not something you have to worry about.”

Rocky sighed, acquiescing. Despite his outward acceptance, Eunwoo could tell by the hard glint in his eye that it would be a while before he could forgive Bin.

It all came to head one day when the CEO knocked on Eunwoo and MJ’s office door to ask why Dispatch was on the other line with a rumor that could ruin ASTRO’s career before it even really started. In fact, Moon Bin wasn’t even at the offices that day — he’d told Eunwoo he had a headache and was going home. While MJ tried to negotiate with the CEO and Dispatch, Eunwoo raced home to search for Bin.

He was nowhere to be found. Mild panic building in his chest, he called him, but he received no answer. That was new. Even when out wandering, Bin always picked up for Eunwoo. Always.

Panic building now that it seemed something might truly be wrong, he called Jinwoo, then Sanha and Rocky, but none of them had seen him. The four of them took to the streets, wandering the parks and shops that Bin enjoyed visiting and even the bar that Dispatch had named.

The day wore on. Eunwoo wasn’t mildly panicked anymore. Now he felt the real thing, head spinning, breath caught in his chest as he rushed down yet another street, eyes desperately searching for Bin, but never finding him. The sun sank low enough to be hidden by the skyscrapers that towered up all around him, and his phone was eerily quiet. The last report from MJ hadn’t been inspiring, and the others had made an agreement not to text or call unless Bin had been found. 

Running around the city all day hadn’t done Eunwoo or the flowers any good, either. He was always fatigued these days, and now more than ever. The flowers made his chest feel as though it were on fire, and the soul bond didn’t help a bit — it was aching and tugging on his heart, almost as if it was panicked too.

Eunwoo felt nearly hysterical as he continued to search for Bin. It seemed that all his usual calm rationality had left him, the soul bond screaming out that he had to find his missing soulmate. What if Bin was in danger? What if he could never find Bin again? What if he did find him, but it was too late?

Eunwoo drowned in worry as he made his way to the next park, the sky lit up in a plethora of pinks and oranges. Eunwoo was too scared to check the time. He didn’t want to know how long Bin had been gone, or how long he had been searching. He reached the park, scanning the sports fields as he sped down the pathways as fast as he dared. His phone buzzed against his thigh.

Eunwoo’s chest grew impossibly tighter. He stopped dead in his tracks to pull out the phone.  _ Please be Sanha, or Rocky, or Jinwoo. Even Bin. Tell me they’ve found him. _

**_myungjun  
_ ** _ good news. dispatch was bluffing. they have no pictures. _

Eunwoo hissed a breath of relief out through his teeth.

**_myungjun  
_ ** _ but they do have eyewitnesses. bin was definitely there. _

Eunwoo’s relief dissipated on the spot, replaced by swirling, incessant worry. They had been lucky this time, but what about next time? If Bin really had picked up a habit of visiting seedy bars, not just faraway convenience stores and public parks, it was only a matter of time until they  _ did _ have pictures. Disregarding the potential career damage, those types of places could be dangerous — Bin would be safer not going at all. 

As a manager, Eunwoo worried for Bin’s image. But more importantly, he was worried for Bin as his friend, his  _ soulmate _ . If Bin wasn’t careful, he could end up in a position far more serious than any damage to his image. 

Eunwoo tapped the message box to reply when he heard a voice from behind.

“Eunwoo?”

He turned, and there he was. 

Bin’s eyes were rimmed with red, his coat disheveled, his hair mussed and swaying in the gentle breeze. Frankly, he looked like shit, but Eunwoo didn’t even care — his chest nearly burst with relief, and he let out a small sob, flying towards Bin and wrapping him up in his arms.

Bin smelled like the cool evening air and cigarette smoke. Wherever he’d been, he hadn’t been smoking, but other people had, and it lingered on his clothes as Eunwoo crushed him in a hug. Eunwoo sucked in a deep breath, and beneath all of that, there was still something uniquely Bin — the laundry detergent they used at the dorms, and something else beneath that; citrusy, like his shampoo. 

As his heart began to slow with Bin in his arms, Eunwoo found himself relaxing, the panic easing. It was replaced by cold, hard fury. He found it hard to breathe. Tears sprang to his eyes. He tried his best to push them down, but his head spun, pounding, and they spilled over anyway as he pulled back. 

“Moon Bin,” he hissed, eyes narrowed, tears pouring down his cheeks. Bin’s eyes widened nearly imperceptibly. “Don’t you  _ ever _ do that again. Do you have  _ any idea _ how worried I was? How worried we  _ all _ were?”

“I’m s —” Bin tried to interject, but Eunwoo was nowhere near done with him.

“I’m sorry won’t cut it this time!” Eunwoo gasped, the tears never abating. Bin looked extremely concerned. Eunwoo pushed him away, extricating himself from Bin’s arms and crossing his own across his chest. “Did you know that MJ has been in a meeting for —” He checked the time. “Six hours, trying to cover for your sorry ass? And do you know where the other members are right now?” Bin started. Eunwoo glared. “Do you?”

Bin shook his head. 

“They’re out looking for  _ you! _ ” Eunwoo shoved his finger into Bin’s chest. Shock clear on his face, Bin took a step back. “And you know how long they’ve been at that? I’ll give you a hint! Longer than MJ’s been in his meeting!” Eunwoo choked out the last words around a cough, and Bin’s shock turned to concern, reaching an arm out to steady Eunwoo as he doubled over.

“Eunwoo, you’re sick,  _ ple ase —” _

“Yeah, maybe you should have thought about that before running all over Seoul, not picking up your cell, making me worry out of my goddamn  _ mind! _ ” Eunwoo spat, prying Bin’s hand from his arm. “I know you loved Hani, Bin! God, absolutely  _ nobody _ is more aware of that than me!” Eunwoo tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he feared it bled through regardless. “But Bin, no matter how much you love someone, don’t throw your life away for them!”

_ Hypocrite.  _ Eunwoo shook the tiny voice at the back of his head off.

“I’m sorry,” Bin said, tears starting to run down his face as well. “God Eunwoo, I’ve caused you so many problems, I’m so  _ sorry _ . I promise I’ll try to be better from now on. For you, and for everyone else.”

“Good start, but not good enough,” Eunwoo said coldly. “Get better for yourself, and then make these past three weeks up to the rest of us some other way.”

Bin just nodded, teary eyed. Eunwoo breathed a sigh of relief. 

Things got better after that. Bin stopped running away, and he seemed to really start to try to get over Hani. The team became a team again. Things were strained, but Bin apologized to each of the members, to MJ, and then over and over again to Eunwoo, and things smoothed over just in time for preparations for the first comeback.

But even as Bin got better, Eunwoo began to get rapidly worse. 

His job was no more demanding than usual, but Eunwoo found himself struggling to keep up with it all. Prying himself out of bed so early in the morning became more and more of a hassle, every aching muscle in his body pleading with him to just lie down for a little bit longer. The rushing around, even just around the company building, fatigued him, and worse, nearly every little thing could set him to coughing. The petals increased in intensity, coming more often and with more blood than ever before. Eunwoo often had to divert from a task for a trip to the bathrooms to empty his face mask, to wipe the residual blood from the corner of his lips, or to cough up an obscene amount of dainty blue petals. 

As summer approached, the others often complaining about the heat, but Eunwoo was always freezing. He tried his best not to shiver, and he resisted the urge to bring his thickest winter coats with him to work — those would bring more questions than he was willing to answer. The most he allowed for was a blanket at his desk that he could drape over his knees when he was in the office, but even that was woefully inadequate. No matter what he did, it was useless — his body no longer had the energy to thermoregulate. 

On top of everything else, the group was busier than ever preparing for a comeback in a few weeks’ time. Eunwoo had to spend long days on sets, driving from location to location, eyes so heavy with exhaustion that part of him worried he would fall asleep at the wheel. The others were clearly concerned, but Eunwoo refused to let them see just how weak he was becoming. He was determined to die strong as ever, and nothing would stop him — not even Sanha's pleading gaze in the rearview mirror as he drove them all home after a long shoot. 

"Please take care, Eunwoo hyung," Sanha pleaded as the others left the car, leaving them alone. Eunwoo smiled, but he knew that he would be doing no such thing. Why bother to take care? He was going to die regardless.

The comeback went smoothly — smoother than the debut, to be sure. Even the music shows felt less chaotic now that he and MJ knew what to expect, and ASTRO's second title track did pretty well on the charts for a rookie boy group. After the first stage, they all embraced in the wings, and finally it felt like they were all on the same page again.

Bin and Rocky shared smiles for the first time in months, Sanha gushed to MJ about his killing part, and Jinwoo proudly showed Eunwoo on his phone that one of the b-sides on the album, one that Jinwoo had produced, had broken into the charts. It was low, around the seventies or eighties range, but it was huge nonetheless. Jinwoo's song was a hit on the charts, and Eunwoo could tell from the shine in his eyes as he held out the phone that his dream was coming true.

Overall, Eunwoo was exceedingly proud of them — they were reaching new heights after only one comeback. He felt a small pang in his heart just as he became excited for the future.  _ Ah, that's right. I won't be there.  _

The truth hurt, but for the moment Eunwoo let it go, basking in the stage lights that bled into the wings and reveling in the smiles on everyone's faces. The leftover performance exhilaration and adrenaline created an atmosphere full of lighthearted camaraderie. 

Bin's smile dazzled Eunwoo as it turned on him, elated. Eunwoo smiled weakly back. His heart fluttered in his chest, the soul bond reaching out desperately. Eunwoo chastised his heart, pulling it back.  _ Do not long for what you cannot have, it only brings you pain, _ he scolded.  _ I thought we had learned this already.  _

His heart, of course, paid him no mind. Bin's smile only widened, and he threw an arm around Eunwoo's shoulder, turning his legs to jelly.  _ I'm a good person _ .  _ What did I do to deserve this?  _

The celebrations continued as they left the broadcasting station, and Bin never strayed far from Eunwoo's side. He even traded seats with MJ so he could sit beside Eunwoo as he drove. He hummed the new title track under his breath all the way home, fingers drumming on the armrest, and in the light of the rapidly retreating sun, Eunwoo thought quietly that he looked beautiful.

When Eunwoo cooked dinner that night, the table was full of warmth and laughter, and Bin’s arm found itself slung across Eunwoo’s shoulder once again. He refused to move, sneaking food on to Eunwoo’s empty plate and sending him slightly worried looks when he refused to eat it. (Eunwoo wished he could, but the nausea was getting worse every day, and his appetite was nowhere to be found.)

Bin stayed by his side the whole night, just as he used to before Hani, until Eunwoo was forced to leave and go home to a cold, empty apartment, with nothing but the memory of hollow laughter and phantom warmth to keep him company.  
  


* * *

  
Board meetings were a necessary evil. Once a month, MJ and Eunwoo had to sit around a table and listen to the executives lay out their plans for ASTRO's future activities, and it was up to them to make it happen. This was the first board meeting since the release of the new album, and the executives were extremely pleased with ASTRO's trajectory.

"ASTRO's increase in popularity has been exponential." The CEO leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I'd like to suggest a tour. Nothing major, just one stop in Korea and a few others overseas, but I think they have the fanbase. Additionally, by making such a bold move with such a new group, I think we'll garner a lot of attention and new fans."

"Isn't it too soon?" An executive butted in, one eyebrow raised. "Yes, ASTRO is doing well, but isn't it too much of a financial risk?"

"I think it will pay off," the CEO said calmly. "And we can organize it all in-house. That'll save us the money of a tour company."

"But do we have someone with the appropriate skill set?" Another executive, head of some department, frowned. "My department deals in promotions, but this is another level. We don't have anyone in a managerial position who can be spared, and there's no point having a team without a head."

There was a long pause, the CEO sitting back in his chair, thinking. He straightened. "We don't need to assign anyone new. We'll just have to redirect resources. The promotions for this comeback have already been arranged by ASTRO's assistant manager. Is this correct?" The CEO looked to Eunwoo.

"That is correct, sir," he said.

"Good." The CEO turned back to the rest of the table. "Cha Eunwoo's talents are being wasted. Since the promotions have already been planned by him and relayed to us by ASTRO's manager, Kim Myungjun, his job has become primarily that of a chauffeur, driving the members to their schedules. Anyone can do that. Someone else will be assigned to drive ASTRO around, thus leaving Cha Eunwoo free and available to organize the tour. Kim Myungjun can assist him as needed, and he will have access to any resources he needs to make ASTRO's first tour successful.”

"Why not Kim Myungjun, then, seeing as he is their primary manager?" A board member piped up from the opposite side of the table.

"He is busy already interfacing with the company and dealing with problems that arise. He will, of course, be overseeing the planning of the tour and will have a large role as well, but he cannot be relieved of any of his primary responsibilities, unlike Cha Eunwoo." The CEO paused, addressing Eunwoo once more. "Are you willing to take on this responsibility? You will, of course, receive a pay raise and will have access to any resources that you should need in the course of your planning."

“Certainly. I will plan the tour to the best of my ability. Thank you for this responsibility.”

It had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time, and parts of it were — Eunwoo was able to stay at the office for the most part instead of running all over the place for schedules, and he saw Bin a lot less, too, meaning the flowers had fewer reasons to act up throughout the day. But sitting all day didn’t soothe the pain in his heart. It felt like giving up.

The sun shone through the windows, leaving fleeting warmth on his skin. Eunwoo sighed, tired to the bone as he sorted through the pile of papers on his desk — lists of possible venues and locations across the country, cities ASTRO might be able to sell out tickets in, the phone numbers and emails of tour companies and tour bus rental companies and private contractors. Eunwoo stared at them. Usually he was good at work like this — all it took was a bit of organization and efficiency — but today he found himself lethargic. The idea of organizing so much all for a tour that, if he attended, would most likely be a death sentence… Eunwoo put down the papers.

He’d tried not to think about the rapidly approaching end of his life, but now it bore down on him. It felt like the sun had gone behind a cloud, and Eunwoo was overwhelmed by a terrifying voice, whispering in his ear, asking him  _ what’s the point of doing anything, anymore? You’re going to die anyway. _

Eunwoo blinked, and the sun was back in the room, but he still felt chilled to the bone.  _ No.  _ He stared determinedly back at the papers in front of him.  _ I am not going to give in to this. I’ll plan this tour, and it will be the best I can possibly make it. If I have to die, I’ll die while still doing the things that I love. _

The job got easier after that. Eunwoo had fun looking up local monuments in France and the best museums in New York. He roped the others into helping him, and soon the planning of the tour felt less like a death sentence and more like a bucket list, full of all the things Eunwoo wanted to do with his best friends before he passed.

MJ told him about waterfalls in Brazil, and Rocky waxed poetic about Italian bakeries he’d love to see. Sanha grinned when he asked, and told Eunwoo how he and his family had visited temples in Japan that they just  _ had _ to go see together, and Jinwoo thought about it long and hard before saying he’d really like to go to a city in South America, because it was the one continent he’d never visited before. 

Since Eunwoo was already being selfish, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to rope Bin in on the project as well. In fact, Bin became the member who helped the most, spending hours and hours in Eunwoo’s office as they pored over pictures of faraway places and fantasized about what it would be like to go there together.

Eunwoo had no illusions about his and Bin’s relationship — it was clear that they were nothing more than friends. But he still treasured the smile on Bin’s face when he showed him the canals in Venice, and the way he would bring new, beautiful places to show Eunwoo every time he came to the office. If this was all Eunwoo would ever get, then he would gladly take it.

Bin still apologized to him every so often about his behavior when he was with Hani, and it made Eunwoo’s heart swell. Bin was always tactful now, never bringing up soulmates, never even bringing up Hani. He always looked out for Eunwoo and had an extra handkerchief on hand for when Eunwoo began to cough.

It was wonderful. Eunwoo was sad that it would have to end so soon.


	8. Chapter 8

It was at a party, a stupid company function to celebrate the beginning of the tour, that it all began to fall apart. 

They arrived early, because of course they did — the party was for them, after all. The members were all dressed to the nines, all suits and ties and eye makeup that shimmered. No matter how nice the suit that he was wearing was, Eunwoo knew he looked half-dead. He felt it too. Beside the others, he looked like a patient who had escaped from the hospital rather than the assistant manager of the company’s newest shining stars.

At the beginning, they all stuck close together, but after the CEO arrived and jovially encouraged those old enough to drink to do so — Eunwoo suspected that the good mood was a side effect of the sheer amount of money the man had made in pre-sales from ASTRO’s newest album — the group drifted apart, mixing with the rapidly growing crowd. It was a lot wilder than Eunwoo would have expected a company party to be, and it was barely ten minutes before the typical bone-deep fatigue and pain snuck back in. Flashes of light in the dark made his eyes hurt. Someone had started playing music that made his head pound. 

But when he looked around for the others, he quickly realized that he was all alone. Making his way to the outskirts of the crowd, where there were tables and seats, was also far more difficult than he had hoped. He had to move slowly so he didn’t expend any excess energy, and on top of that, the sheer number of people in the room was growing. Eunwoo didn’t have enough strength to even nudge people the extra inch he needed out of the way. 

But he got there eventually, sinking into a chair on the edge of the room with a sigh of relief and letting his eyes flutter closed. To his horror, he felt slightly nauseous, as though he had run a marathon. Stars swam behind his eyelids. 

He took several deep breaths, trying to get the flowers under control. Slowly, the stars stopped spinning. Things quieted down a little bit. Eunwoo groaned, allowing his eyes to open again. At this rate, he would be dead within the month. Then again, that seemed fairly on track with the timeline of the very few other recorded cases. 

Eunwoo sighed, rubbing his temples. If he could just get through the party. If he could control his emotions that long, then everything would be fine. He needed to take a leave of absence soon anyway, and maybe that time was sooner than he had hoped. His heart sunk, thinking of all the amazing places that he had planned to see during the tour, but Eunwoo was nothing if not pragmatic, and even he could acknowledge that it was nearly his time to go.

Mid-stew, Eunwoo heard his name. “Eunwoo!” He turned, and Rocky was making his way across the room to him, impassive as ever but on a mission.

But it wasn’t Rocky that caught Eunwoo’s eye. It was Bin, behind him.

Moon Bin, who was locking lips with another _guy_.

Somewhere in the back of Eunwoo’s brain, he registered that it was probably a trainee, but the rest of him reacted instinctively. His eyes widened. He jerked to his feet, his vision blacking out for a split second as he stood, just as it always did these days. He didn’t even register the shock and surprise on Rocky’s face, didn’t consider how it would look like Eunwoo was bolting at the sight of him.

No, none of that crossed his mind. Eunwoo just _ran_.

Looking back, that was probably an extremely ill-advised decision, especially in his state. It was no surprise after such exertion that he simply barreled into the bathroom at the end of the hallway outside the hotel ballroom and forgot to close the door, much less lock it. 

Forget-me-nots spewed from his lips, and Eunwoo choked — whether it was on the petals or his own blood, he couldn’t be sure. He coughed and coughed and coughed. The petals were everywhere — on his lips, his clothes, the floor, the toilet. 

They were _everywhere_ , and there was no escaping it when Rocky’s voice resonated from the doorway, thick with pain and horror.

“Fuck, Eunwoo. _Fuck_. How did none of us see earlier?”

Eunwoo laughed, eyes closed, chest heaving. It was a sick sound, rattling and grating on Rocky’s ears as he watched in horror. His cheeks were flushed, the wilting petals still on his lips. Even now, leaning over a toilet and seemingly half-dead, he still looked beautiful, like a tragic statue or painting in a museum. His lips turned upwards in quiet irony and he chuckled, voice raspy and weak.

“I deserve a damn Oscar.”

And then he fainted.

“ _Christ_ ,” Rocky rushed forward. “Eunwoo, wake up. Please, god, wake up.” Rocky used all of his strength to pull Eunwoo’s arm over his shoulder. Eunwoo’s head lolled and Rocky gritted his teeth before pulling the taller man’s prone body up. 

He staggered out of the bathroom, half-dragging Eunwoo behind him. He scanned the hallway for a way out. Down the hall, the sounds of the party wafted towards him, with heavy bass and the sounds of broken conversations. Eunwoo was getting heavier and heavier. 

“Fuck.” Rocky frowned. “There’s no way to get you out of here without help.” He pulled Eunwoo’s arm more fully onto his shoulder. At that moment, Jinwoo rounded the corner, a cup in his hands and a smile on his face as he looked back towards the doorway he’d come from. Rocky’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ — Jinjin will ask questions, we have to get out of here, _now_ ,” he hissed into Eunwoo’s ear, pulling him along in the other direction, away from the party. Eunwoo’s eyes flickered open for a minute, and he mumbled something unintelligible.

It was so blurry. He could feel his feet dragging and Rocky’s arm around his shoulders, but the sound of Rocky’s voice and the shaking bass of the party’s music felt far away, underwater. He blinked, and his head fell forwards before he caught it again, forcing himself to look up. The world was spinning. When did it start spinning? Rocky was saying something, but it was too quiet, Eunwoo couldn’t hear.

Rocky dragged them down the hallway and into another room. It seemed to be some kind of green room, empty apart from a few plastic tables and chairs. Rocky sighed and carefully settled Eunwoo down into one of the plastic chairs before carefully stepping back to close the door. It shut with a click, and the party sounds became even more muffled. 

Eunwoo pulled a heavy hand up towards his face and blinked blearily, pulling himself forward. “Rocky, what —?”

Rocky wouldn’t look at him. His gaze was focused on the ground as he leaned against the door. His fists clenched, and he stood stiffly, his dancer’s posture nowhere to be seen. Eunwoo shuffled in his seat, painfully pushing himself more upright. He swallowed, the action hurting his raw throat, and croaked out, “Rocky, are you mad? I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have burdened you —”

“I’m not mad!” Rocky choked out. Eunwoo fell silent, just watching. His voice was shaking. “I —” Rocky took a deep breath, and Eunwoo startled at the presence of tears dripping down his cheeks, suddenly falling thick and fast. “I’m sorry,” Rocky said quietly.

“I’m sorry I never noticed, and that no one else did either. I’m sorry that you thought that you couldn’t talk to us about it. I’m sorry that this person is an idiot, because only an idiot wouldn’t fall in love with you. I’m sorry that it’s come to this. I’m sorry…” He trailed off, and scuffed his foot against the floor. Eunwoo waited. Rocky took a deep shuddering breath and looked up at him. “I’m sorry that you’re going to… you know.”

“Die?” Eunwoo said calmly, and then laughed hollowly. “I know. It’s okay, really.”

“I’m sorry,” Rocky said, eyes wide with shock, “that you can say that so casually. We’ve all been stupid. We should have _known_. We spend all day together.”

Eunwoo laughed again. “I have an acting degree,” he choked. More petals fluttered down from his cracked lips. 

“You keep saying that, but it’s not a goddamn excuse,” Rocky gritted his teeth. He pushed off the wall. “Whatever. Fuck this.”

Eunwoo flinched. Rocky’s voice was cold and sharp as he moved away from the door. His hands were trembling. 

Rocky slumped down into a chair next to Eunwoo. “I finally had a best friend. Someone who is _so_ caring, who gives _so goddamn much_ , and I was stupid enough to think that I knew him. God, Eunwoo, I don’t know you at all.” Rocky’s face was open, hurt, and Eunwoo shrunk backwards a little. He hid his eyes from Rocky’s. Rocky’s eyes were too open, too honest, and Eunwoo felt trapped.

“But I want to know you. We all love you, Eunwoo. Me, and MJ and Jinwoo and Sanha.” Rocky paused and gritted his teeth, forcing out, “even Bin, though he’s been an idiot recently.” Eunwoo choked out a watery laugh, closing his eyes as he leaned back into his chair. “We’ve all been idiots recently, to have let this slip by us.”

It probably wasn’t a good time to mention that Sanha knew. He couldn’t let either of them know the other knew. They’d probably collaborate and tell MJ, or do something to make him get treatment.

Silence, thick and suffocating, fell between them. When Eunwoo finally opened his eyes, Rocky’s were fixed directly on him. 

“Eunwoo…” Rocky leaned forward delicately, his hand out as though he were confronting a wild animal. A surge of apprehension rose in his gut as the silence drew out. Eunwoo blinked. Rocky looked down, seemed to steel himself, and looked directly at Eunwoo once more before finally asking the question Eunwoo knew was coming.

_“Who?”_

Eunwoo chuckled, more tears dripping down his face. Rocky just waited, unmoving. “Oh, Rocky, I can’t tell.” Rocky opened up his mouth to protest, but Eunwoo held up his hand. “I love him. And I know you. You’d rain hell upon him if you knew who was doing this to me.” Rocky shut his mouth, because it was undeniably true.

“I know you said you don’t know me,” Eunwoo said, softly. “But you do. And I know you. you’re my best friend, Rocky. I’m in love with him, but it’s for that exact reason that I’d rather die than force him to be with me when he doesn’t want to be. And I know him, too, just like I know you. He’d tell me he loved me a thousand times, he’d marry me if it would keep me alive, even if it made him miserable.” Eunwoo swallowed back tears and continued, his voice shaky. “So he can never, and I mean _never,_ know.”

Rocky seemed stunned, his face blank, but in his gaze Eunwoo saw a flicker of understanding, the understanding that was his saving grace. “I don’t want to die in a hospital as a science experiment, as a victim of Hanahaki, nameless but plastered across the news worldwide,” Eunwoo whispered. “I want to die as Eunwoo, who will be remembered only as a friend who fell ill and passed away quietly. I didn’t want any of you to know that this is how I died, rejected by the person the universe claims completes me.”

Rocky’s face was wet with tears again, and he reached out and held Eunwoo’s hand in his own. “I. I want to be remembered as Lee Dongmin, who raised his little brother alone. I want Donghwi to look _up_ to me, not pity me for dying of… of _love_ , of all things.”

Rocky smiled, so full of sadness that it nearly broke Eunwoo’s heart again. “It’s oddly fitting,” he said, a morbid laugh following the statement. “Lee Dongmin, if you were going to die young of anything, it would be of having too much love in your heart.”

Eunwoo lost it then, finally letting himself cry onto Rocky’s shoulder as he pulled Eunwoo into his arms with a light touch, rubbing circles into Eunwoo’s shoulder as he just cried and cried and cried.

He mourned the loss of the years ahead of him, mourned not being able to see Donghwi’s children grow up, or seeing Sanha become a man. He mourned his ability to watch Jinwoo lead ASTRO into success by MJ’s side, and his place as Rocky’s taste tester for all his baked creations. And most of all he mourned Bin, mourned the pipe dream of growing old with his soulmate, and really, Eunwoo should have known better.

He was only the creator of happy endings, not the one who _got_ a happy ending. He’d learned that years ago on a cold manor step in the dead of night. 

His tears slowed, and Rocky sighed, pulling him in close. “Listen, Eunwoo, you have to go visit your brother.” Eunwoo protested, trying to pull free of Rocky’s arms, but Rocky held him, and there was really no competition between Rocky’s biceps and Eunwoo’s thin frame. “No, seriously. There’s plenty of time, over a month before the tour, and MJ wants you to take the time off for your health anyway.”

Rocky met Eunwoo’s eyes seriously. “You’re a wonderful big brother, Lee Dongmin. Your brother will want to see you again, especially if there’s only limited time left.” Rocky paused, his lips turning upwards in a half hearted smile. “And besides, like you said, I know you. You want to see him again too.”

Eunwoo took a deep, shuddering breath. He did want to see Donghwi one last time. “O-okay. I’ll go to see him.”

“Okay,” Rocky said, mollified and clearly relieved. “I’ll help you pack, and we can get you train tickets for tomorrow.” 

Eunwoo just nodded, his throat dry and raw, exhausted and dehydrated. Rocky stood and offered a hand to Eunwoo.

“Let’s go home. I’ll take care of everything.” Eunwoo began to protest yet again, but Rocky threw him a look so full of sorrow that Eunwoo fell silent and let Rocky lead him outside, drive him home, and help him sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, there was an Advil and cup of water by his bed, and a packed bag and a printed train ticket to Busan for later that evening on his kitchen table, alongside a note that read, 

_MJ knows and I took the liberty of texting your brother through your phone. Have a good trip._

It took everything in him to not burst into tears yet again.

* * *

He went to see his brother. 

Donghwi cried when he saw Dongmin, pulling him into a hug that lasted for several minutes. Donghwi was twenty now, taller than Dongmin, living in a house that was minuscule compared to where he grew up. 

They didn’t talk about their parents. They never had. Donghwi just ushered Dongmin into his bedroom, helping Dongmin into bed. He promised Dongmin that he would sleep in his roommate’s bed, but in the end, he crawled under the covers beside Dongmin and dozed off on top of his rattling chest. 

“Donghwi,” Dongmin whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yes, hyung?”

There are so many things he wants to say to Donghwi. _I’m so proud of you. You’ll do just fine without me. Don’t put your life on hold just because your brother was unfortunate enough to fall in love._ But all of that could come later. Dongmin smiled into the dark, eyes closing all the way.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

He could feel the warmth of Donghwi’s smile in his voice when he whispered back. 

“Of course I do. Never doubted it.”

“Good.” Dongmin couldn’t be sure if he would wake up in the morning, but just in case he didn’t, he was glad that Donghwi knew.

The next morning dawned bright and early. Dongmin found himself too tired to get up and out of bed. It was awful. At this point, he was almost certainly going to die in Donghwi’s bed of all places, and that was a cruel thing to do to his younger brother. 

But Donghwi refused to let him move. In fact, he begged Dongmin to please stay put and not exert himself, and Dongmin had never quite learned how to deny Donghwi anything that he really wanted, so he resigned himself to the reality.

At around 10:00am, he got a call from MJ. The normally bubbly man sounded uncharacteristically solemn when he answered Dongmin’s “Hey, MJ,” with a somber,

_“Hello.”_

“What’s up,” Dongmin said softly. The flowers ached in his chest, begging for him to cough, but Dongmin shoved them down. He could get ahold of himself for one five-minute phone call.

 _“Eunwoo, there’s no other way to say this, but I know.”_ Ice slid into Dongmin’s chest beside the flowers, but before it had time to settle, MJ continued. _“Rocky told me, and Jinwoo knows too, he was in the room. To be fair, I don’t think Rocky noticed. He was more focused on explaining your absence to me than paying attention to anything else.”_

Dongmin wished he could take a deep breath, but the pain in his chest was too much. He simply swallowed weakly, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of the morning sunshine wash over his skin from where Donghwi had drawn back the curtains. With his eyes closed, lying on the bed with the sun on his face, Dongmin could pretend, just for one split second, that he was perfectly fine — that he hadn’t lost an obscene amount of weight and muscle mass, that flowers weren’t choking him from the inside out.

 _“I wish you weren’t doing this to yourself,”_ MJ whispered down the line. _“You should tell them. Maybe they’ll surprise you.”_ He sounded on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” Dongmin whispered back. “But I don’t think I can at this point. It’s probably too late — finding out now would only cause them pain.”

There was a small, choked sound on the other side of the line. Even though Dongmin couldn’t see him, he knew that MJ was crying and he felt _awful_ , wrung limb from limb. 

“MJ,” Dongmin tried, but MJ’s sniffles still carried down the line. “Oh, MJ. MJ listen to me,” Dongmin insisted. MJ fell silent.

_“Yes, Eunwoo?”_

“Don’t cry for me,” he said softly. He smiled, letting his eyes open so he could look out the window, past the curtains that swayed gently in the summer breeze, and up into the cornflower blue sky. “Smile for me instead. I always loved your smile, MJ, so don’t lose it now. You promise?”

 _“I’ll try,”_ MJ said. _“But I can’t promise that I won’t also shed tears for you. I can’t help it, I just love you too much.”_ MJ’s voice cracked at the end of the sentence, but he cleared his throat, recovering gracefully. He said, teasing, _“Who am I going to guilt trip into buying pastries now?”_

Dongmin laughed weakly, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye. 

“I’m sure Jinwoo will oblige you, Myungjun.”

 _“He better,”_ MJ said petulantly. _“Jinwoo wants to talk to you. Are you willing?”_

“Sure,” Dongmin said. MJ handed the phone to Jinwoo. No goodbyes. Dongmin appreciated that.

_“Hey Eunwoo.”_

“Hey, Jinwoo.”

There was a long silence. Jinwoo didn’t cry, and for that, Dongmin was eternally grateful. 

_“So what am I going to do without you, huh?”_ Jinwoo’s voice was amused on the surface, but below that there was a distinct undertone of pain. It was a genuine question. And it was true — Dongmin and Jinwoo had always been the leaders, the caretakers. Dongmin couldn’t imagine doing it alone, but now Jinwoo would have to.

“Oh, you’ll manage,” Dongmin said as lightly as he could. “You give ‘em hell for me, Park Jinwoo. And any time one of them tries to talk back, you tell them that I’m watching and I’m _extremely_ disappointed in them.”

There was silence on the other end. Dongmin sighed. “Too soon?”

 _“Just a bi t.”_ Jinwoo’s voice was pained. 

“Sorry.”

 _“It’s alright,”_ Jinwoo said. _“I’ll take care of them, Eunwoo, so don’t you worry about a thing.”_

“I know you will.”

_“No, I’m serious. You’ve worked hard, Cha Eunwoo. We love you. Don’t worry about resting and taking the time off of work. I’ve got things covered on this end, okay?”_

Dongmin’s throat closed up, but he managed to push out a small, quiet, “Okay.” 

_“Okay.”_ Jinwoo sounded satisfied. _“I’m going to hang up now. Talk to you later.”_

“Later,” Dongmin said, and Jinwoo hung up. Dongmin sighed, and looked over to the window again, watching the clouds drift across the sky. 

_Talk to you l ater._ Empty words, and both he and Jinwoo knew it. But they were infinitely better than saying goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW YOU GUYS ONLY TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!!!!! i know this one was a bit angsty, but i promise we have some bin pov comingup soon! hope you're all as excited as i am!!!!
> 
> kudos and comments are deeply appreciated!! love u all mwah!
> 
> to see more follow me on twt @sanhascroissant!!!
> 
> Love,  
> Robin <3


	9. Chapter 9

Bin woke on the first day of the North American part of the tour with a spring in his step. Their shows in Korea had gone exceedingly well, and Bin was excited to set out for new places. 

He couldn’t deny that part of the excitement wasn’t even from the tour at all — Dongmin would be coming with them to North America, and Bin was looking forward to seeing him again.

He hoped that Dongmin was feeling better — he’d been looking sickly for a few months before MJ told them that he was finally taking a leave of absence for his health. But Bin felt reassured — it had been weeks since Dongmin’s departure, he had to be feeling better by now. Besides, Dongmin wouldn’t miss their North American tour. He’d planned most of the concert dates himself, negotiated with the venues on their behalf, and he remembered the excitement that had lit up Dongmin’s features when he talked about the tour.

No. Dongmin wouldn’t miss this unless someone he loved was on their deathbed.

Bin hummed cheerfully under his breath absentmindedly as he packed the last few of his things, excited to see Dongmin later in the day. He dragged his suitcase out to the living room to meet the others, but they all seemed awfully gloomy for such an exciting day.

“You seem cheerful,” Rocky muttered. 

“Yeah, of course I do,” Bin grinned widely. “It’s the first day of tour overseas.” They stared at him blankly. Bin was about to ask what he’d missed when MJ arrived. 

Even MJ, who was never seen without a smile on his face, seemed subdued as he listed the itinerary for the day’s travels. Bin narrowed his eyes. This whole situation was weird. Firstly, everyone was in a weird mood, even MJ, who Bin had assumed was _always_ happy. Secondly, MJ arrived on time. Never a good sign. Thirdly, Dongmin was late, and Dongmin was never late. Bin frowned, gaze darting around the room before settling on the door, expectant and waiting. But as MJ droned on, Dongmin didn’t appear, and when MJ finally said, “Any questions?” 

Bin asked, “Where’s Eunwoo? Is he planning on meeting us at the airport or something?”

All sound was sucked from the room. Four pairs of eyes swiveled towards him. You could hear a pin drop. Bin’s confidence wavered. “You guys?”

“You don’t know,” MJ said breathlessly. “Well, you and Sanha —”

“No,” Sanha said grimly. “I know. I knew _first .”_

MJ swallowed. Bin couldn’t take it anymore. “You guys, seriously. Stop being cryptic. Where’s Eunwoo?”

“He’s sitting this one out,” Jinwoo said firmly, stepping between MJ, Sanha, and Bin. “He’s staying home for his own health.”

“What?” Bin gasped. “He _wouldn’t_ _._ He was so excited for the tour, he told me all about the things he wanted to do and the places he wanted to go see. He seemed excited. He’s been anticipating this too long to just drop out now over some _cold.”_

“No,” Rocky said, teeth grit. “He wouldn’t. But he _would_ if he was dying of fucking _Hanahaki Disease.”_

The world collapsed. His blood roared in his ears — it couldn’t be true. Dongmin, the most lovable person Bin knew, dying of unrequited love? Impossible. 

As fast as the roaring had come, it vanished, leaving him with impenetrable silence. 

“No,” Bin whispered. “No.” His voice grew in intensity. “Dongmin is _dying_ _,_ and we’re leaving the country? His five closest friends?” Bin shook his head. “I can’t be here right now. I need to go to see him. Where is he?”

“Bin,” MJ tried to reason with him. “Things are hard enough on him as it is. Don’t make it more difficult. Eunwoo wouldn’t want you to throw away all the work he’s done on the tour —”

 _“Fuck_ the tour,” Bin said vehemently. “I’m going to see Dongmin. There’s something I need to tell him. Something I should have told him a long time ago.” He met each of their eyes. “So either help me, or get the fuck out of my way, because I‘m going after him with or without your help.”

Sanha stepped forward. “He’s in Busan. I’ll text you the address.” The others began to protest, but Sanha shook his head. “I have a feeling that what Bin has to say will be extremely important for Eunwoo to hear.” He looked at Bin. “Don’t let me down.”

Bin swallowed. He nodded once, turned on his heel, and left before anyone could stop him.

* * *

Bin, despite popular belief, wasn’t completely oblivious. Just _mostly._

He had known that what he felt for Eunwoo wasn’t exactly totally platonic, but at the time, he’d had a hard time accepting the idea that that was the case. The speeding of his heart when he looked Eunwoo’s direction and the way his smile made Bin feel like he was walking on clouds was definitely not normal. But Bin knew he wasn’t gay.

He’d liked girls in the past. He’d never liked a guy. He wasn’t gay. It had to be a fluke. He didn’t want to talk to Eunwoo about it because first of all, Eunwoo probably wasn’t gay, and if he was, why would he like someone like Bin back? Eunwoo was way out of his league. Second of all, if he talked to Eunwoo about it and Eunwoo _was_ gay and liked Bin, he would feel awful for possibly, no, _probably_ _,_ not actually liking him back. This was just a weird man crush. 

Wasn’t it?

Generally, Bin shoved his thoughts and feelings about Eunwoo into a little box at the very back of his brain labeled, _do not open under any circumstances._ So when a member of a newly debuted girl group and his fellow MC on _The Show_ approached him asking if he’d like to go out on a date sometime, Bin jumped at the opportunity.

Hani was wonderful. She was sweet, smart, kind, and a wonderful conversationalist. She and Bin went on dates to restaurants and cafes and museums, and he loved spending time with her. She didn’t make his heart beat the same way Eunwoo did, but she was amazing, and Bin came to truly, deeply care for her.

What he felt for Hani wasn’t fake. He was infatuated with her, and he knew, somewhere deep down, that he could have really loved her, if not for the fact that his other, unaddressed feelings were still in the way. 

He tried to ignore those feelings. He really did. But they didn’t fade with time like he’d expected — instead, they only seemed to get stronger. Bin shoved them down with all his might because he really did like Hani, and all of this wasn’t fair to her. He was determined to get over his infatuation with Eunwoo so he could be with Hani, whose love was like a rock: solid, constant, comforting.

It all came to an end after a wonderful date as they walked along the Han River. Hani smiled, pulled him over to an outdoor cafe, and told him that they needed to talk.

“Bin.” Her hair shone under the fair lights strung above them. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too,” Bin said honestly. 

“I know you do.” Hani smiled sadly. “But I think it’s best for the both of us if we break up now, before we hurt one another any more.”

“What?” Bin felt like the wind had been knocked from his lungs. “Why?”

She looked at him for a moment, and sighed. The cool night air ruffled her hair just a bit, and she looked close to heartbroken. “Bin,” she said gently, reaching out to place a perfectly manicured hand on his arm. “You’re in love with Eunwoo, aren’t you?”

Bin blinked, shocked, and opened his mouth to refute her. “I…” he trailed off, realizing to his horror that he couldn’t honestly say that it wasn’t the truth. Hani smiled sadly. She nodded, withdrawing her hand. Her face was shuttered off from him in a mask of strength.

“So you see,” she said. “We have to split up.”

“Hani,” Bin said, desperate. She was about to walk out of his life, and he did not want to lose her. “Hani, please. That’s not who I am. I like girls. I like _you!_ Please.”

Hani frowned, coming up short. “Bin. I know you like me. But I also know that you don’t love me, and you _can’t,_ not while these feelings for Eunwoo are unresolved.” Bin opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand, and he fell silent. “Bin,” she said, voice softening. “This isn’t my place anymore, but please … Look up the word bisexual. I think it could really help you a lot. I’m not breaking up with you because you like guys, or because you don’t like girls, or whatever. I’m breaking up with you because you’re in love with someone else. Someone who isn’t me.” She sighed, getting to her feet. Bin paused, the force of her words hitting him. He was overwhelmed by guilt.

“Hani,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it, and somewhere under that ignorance is a really sweet guy who maybe, one day in the future, I can be friends with. But for now, we need our space from one another, and you have some self-discovery to do, okay?”

“Okay,” Bin said, sniffling. “Hani, you’re far too good for me.”

“I know,” she whispered. 

Bin let out a watery laugh, then sobered. “Really, Hani,” he said, sincerely. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are,” she said honestly. “You didn’t know. But… be more careful with the feelings of others in the future, okay?”

He looked up at her, and her eyes were glimmering in the low light. He swallowed, the sight of her near tears because of him piercing him through his heart. 

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

“Good,” she said, and then turned and left the cafe, walking out of Bin’s life for the time being.

After his discussion with Hani, Bin was listless. He often wandered around Seoul aimlessly, thinking about her words. Weeks passed in a blur. Despite the knowledge that the others were worried about him, the new information Hani had given him had changed his life so thoroughly that he didn’t even really know where to begin. 

Besides her, he was starting to realize that he had treated Eunwoo poorly as well. From the discussion of soulmates to the times where he ignored Eunwoo’s health because he was so absorbed in Hani … He’d been incredibly inconsiderate, and that guilt only added to the guilt he already felt about how he’d treated Hani to form a giant guilt blob around his heart.

But then Eunwoo confronted him beside the river, yelling at him despite how sick he clearly was. Eunwoo told him off not for the way Bin had treated him, but for the way he’d treated the other members, and Bin realized with sudden and shocking clarity that being guilty all on his own was incredibly self-serving. While he’d wallowed in his own guilt, he’d continued to recklessly hurt the people he cared about.

The guilt built, and it felt like it might swallow him whole, but for the first time since his epiphany, he fought back against it.

 _Wallowing like this doesn’t do me any good,_ he reminded himself every day as he got out of bed. _It only hurts the people that I should be making things up to. They were really hurt by me, and they don’t have to forgive me. I should try to be a better person for them, but also for myself._

He began to do better, to pay more attention to the way the others felt. And one by one, he gave them the apologies that he knew they deserved. 

He apologized to MJ first, for weathering horrible meetings with the CEO on his behalf. MJ just smiled, clapped him on the back, and told him that he would do it again. “You were going through a hard time,” he told Bin. “It was obvious. We’re all glad that you’re getting better.”

He apologized to Jinwoo next, for fighting with him and being so flippant about his responsibilities as a member of ASTRO. Jinwoo told him that it was alright, and he accepted his apology, but he wanted to see Bin do better in the future. Bin could only fervently nod his head in agreement. 

After that, he apologized to Sanha, who waved him off, hugging him around the middle and whispering in his ear that if he was going through something hard, to just talk to them next time instead of running off on his own. “I was scared for you,” Sanha admitted softly, and Bin’s heart clenched.

When he apologized to Rocky, he just stared at Bin. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” He glanced significantly across the room to where Eunwoo sat against the wall, organizing schedules. Bin just sighed. 

“I know.”

Eunwoo was both the hardest and the easiest person to apologize to. He poured his heart out to Eunwoo, hoping that he could get across just how sorry he was, and Eunwoo just smiled placidly and said, “I know, Bin. I accept your apology.”

Bin wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Anything would have felt better than that kind of response. He’d been expecting Eunwoo to give him a firm lecture, or yell at him, or _something._ But no. He just … accepted the apology? The way Bin had treated him had been unacceptable. To see Eunwoo not even lift a finger in his own defense concerned him.

“Eunwoo, you really shouldn’t forgive me,” Bin tried to explain. “I hurt you. It’s okay to be angry. In fact, you should be. I really hope you don’t let people treat you the way I did, it was wrong.”

Eunwoo blinked, obviously surprised, but then he smiled, the surprise clearing from his face. “What good would being angry do? I’ve missed you, and I’m glad that you’ve realized that you were wrong. That’s enough for me, Bin.” He must have looked skeptical, because Eunwoo laughed, drawing him into a hug. He smelled like cologne, and underneath that, something vaguely floral. “Really, it’s enough,” Eunwoo said, and Bin tried his best to believe him.

“Okay, but seriously,” he said when they pulled back. “If I do anything to hurt you, tell me next time, okay? Even if it seems really minor to you. I want to stop hurting the people I care about.”

“Alright,” Eunwoo agreed amicably. “I will.” 

But despite Eunwoo’s forgiving words, Bin’s guilt still ate at him. He was glad it did, because he deserved it for how stupid he’d been, really. 

Though Eunwoo insisted time and time again that he didn’t have to do anything more to be forgiven, Bin wanted to do more for him. He started carrying handkerchiefs on him everywhere, in case Eunwoo began to cough. He helped Eunwoo with dinner — and breakfast, when he managed to convince Eunwoo to wake him up to help — and most of all, spent as much time as he could with him. 

Eunwoo planned their tour, and Bin was only too happy to help. Eunwoo smiled whenever Bin came to the office, and he never seemed to tire of talking about all the wonderful places they might be able to go. 

Each time Eunwoo smiled, Bin’s heart sang, tossing off the heavy guilt for just a moment so he could admire Eunwoo as he was. He’d done his research, and he knew now that it was okay. He could like girls like Hani, and he could love boys like Eunwoo.

The speeding of his heart when he looked Eunwoo’s direction and the way his smile made Bin feel like he was walking on clouds was completely normal. But Bin knew he wasn’t gay.

He was bisexual, and he was in love with Cha Eunwoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!!!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed the chapter, but i hope you also enjoy the FINAL chapter,because i will be uploading it right after this one!! enjoy <333
> 
> love,  
> robin


	10. Chapter 10

Bin ran to the train station to buy the earliest ticket to Busan. He paced in the train station, and then he paced on the train after it came. When they arrived, he rushed off the train, and he shoved a woman out of the way to get to a taxi first. 

He was so frantic, he didn’t even try to apologize.

The taxi took him as far as it could, and then Bin sprinted up the driveway of the small house and knocked on the door. It was tiny, shoved in between two much larger buildings, but quaint. It had a front garden, and flowers that looked well cared for.

The door opened just a crack. “What do you want?”

“Um,” Bin swallowed. “I’m here to see Lee Dongmin?”

“He’s not taking visitors. Sorry. Have a good day.” The door began to close. Bin felt his chest swell with panic. 

“No, wait!” He stuck his foot in the door as it was closing, and though it hit him hard enough to make him wince, it stopped the door, and that was good enough for him. The voice was silent. 

“I’m close with your brother,” Bin said. “I just found out about — well, you know what about, and I can’t go without telling him something. It’s really important, _please_ believe me. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, I _swear.”_

After an unbearably long moment of silence, the door swung open. Bin nearly collapsed in relief. Behind the door stood a young man who strikingly resembled Dongmin. His jawline was stronger, and he was a bit taller, but he was unmistakably Dongmin’s brother. 

He looked tired to the bone, his skin pale, dark bruises under his eyes. When Bin met his eyes, they were haunted and so heartbreakingly _sad._ For a moment, Bin wondered who had hurt this man so horribly — but then he remembered that Dongmin was somewhere inside this house, hovering on the brink of life and death, and he began to feel that same pain. This man was resigned to watching his older brother die.

“Come in.” Dongmin’s brother stepped to the side. For a moment, Bin couldn’t believe he was being let in, but then Dongmin’s brother shot him a look like _what are you till standing there for?_ _,_ and Bin scrambled across the threshold.

“I’m Lee Donghwi, Dongmin’s younger brother,” he said, leading Bin through the house to the kitchen. “Take a seat. Dongmin’s asleep.” As Bin reluctantly lowered himself into the seat, Donghwi rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out a pair of mugs. “Do you take sugar or milk in your tea?”

“Um. I’m Moon Bin. Just sugar.” The kitchen was immaculate, nothing out of place. A cork board hung beside the table, covered in small notes. On some, the ink was faded — years and years old. On others, it was more fresh. All of them were encouraging, and all of them were written in Dongmin’s looping handwriting. He scanned a few as he waited, gaze trailing over the encouraging words.

_Make sure to eat well today, Donghwi!_

_Don’t forget how proud I am of you!_

_Your hyung is cheering you on, okay? You’ll ace that test._

_Smile, Donghwi. You’re doing amazing._

_I miss you. It’s not the same living in Seoul without you. Promise me to take care._

Bin’s eyes wandered over to a new one. The ink was still fresh, glinting in the mid morning sunlight that streamed in through the window. It was still Dongmin’s handwriting, but shaky and uncertain, and Bin’s heart dropped at the words.

_Don’t miss me when I’m gone, Donghwi. You’ll do just fine without me! I love you to the moon and back, okay? Don’t ever forget. You promised. Endless love, your brother, Dongmin xx_

Bin swallowed back the tears just as Donghwi returned to the table, taking a seat across from Bin and silently passing a mug across the table. Bin accepted it, relishing in the warmth that seeped into his hands as he tried to calm himself, sipping the tea. 

“So.” Donghwi stared at him. “How do you know my brother?”

“I’m a member of the group he manages,” Bin said. He couldn’t stop his anxiety, his desperation to see Dongmin, but he also couldn’t barge in and wake him up. 

“I see.” Donghwi fell silent. Bin took another awkward sip of tea. “Out of all of them, why you?”

“What?” Bin looked up from his tea. Donghwi was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. He frowned.

“Why you? There’s four others, from what I hear, but none of them are here. Why did you come?”

“He’s really important to me, and I have something that I have to tell him,” Bin said. “It’s that simple.”

Donghwi sighed. He put his mug of tea aside. “Listen Bin, I feel like I have to be honest with you. He’s really far gone. He’s rarely awake, and when he is, he’s rarely coherent. The last real conversation we had was last week, and he essentially said goodbye. The only thing that could make him better at this point would be a direct confession from his soulmate, but Dongmin hyung made it pretty clear to me that whoever he is, he would never express such a sentiment.” Donghwi leaned forward, exhaustion painted deep into every line on his face. He looked old and worn far beyond his years. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bin said, even as his stomach tied itself into knots. “I have to try.”

Donghwi looked deep into his eyes, and a deeply contemplative look stole across his face. “Alright then, Moon Bin. Stay for as long as you need.”

* * *

“I think if I could change one thing about this entire thing, it would be to take away the pain, you know?” Donghwi slumped in a chair by Dongmin’s bedside while Bin sat across from him. Donghwi reassured him that Dongmin would wake again soon. Dongmin’s naps were short and fitful. He was never able to stay asleep too long.

As they waited, Bin finally let himself look. He could barely believe what he saw. This man, tiny and gaunt, curled up in a bed with empty eyes and thin hair, was nothing like his Dongmin — all classic beauty, smiles and hard work. Everything recognizable about Dongmin had withered away. This was a skeletal version of him. 

His breaths were shallow and rattling. Even in sleep, his breaths hitched with pain. Donghwi explained that it was because the flowers had begun to grow up, the branches digging into Dongmin’s throat and making it difficult to breathe — nothing he did was without pain. Bin squeezed his eyes shut, the tears threatening to spill over, and he swore that if he ever met Dongmin’s soulmate, he would literally murder him — it’s what he deserved for killing Dongmin like this. 

It was hard to imagine that out there somewhere, Dongmin had a soulmate who didn’t love him. _Everyone_ loved Dongmin. Bin loved Dongmin. He wished that he could save him, but he wasn’t Dongmin’s soulmate, and Dongmin refused to tell them who it was. 

Dongmin’s eyes fluttered open slowly. They stared up at the ceiling, glassy and unseeing, before flicking in Donghwi’s direction. Bin watched in shock as all the exhaustion melted from Donghwi’s frame, overtaken by a gentle smile as he straightened in his seat. All the haunting grief was tucked away, out of Dongmin’s sight, and Bin was stricken by how easily he did it — as easily as Dongmin had hidden the truth from them all for months. 

Acting must run in the family.

“Donghwi?” Dongmin’s voice was barely a whisper, raspy and dry. Bin repressed a shudder, horrified, but Donghwi didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he smiled. 

“Hey, hyung,” he said. “You have a visitor! He came all the way from Seoul to visit you, you know.”

Dongmin’s brow furrowed just the slightest bit. “Who?”

“He’s right here,” Donghwi said, and looked over to Bin. He swallowed, scooting closer into Dongmin’s line of sight. 

“Hey, Dongmin.”

“Bin.” Dongmin breathed out, chest rattling. His eyes fell shut, and a smile graced his features. “You came.”

Bin blinked back tears at the simple happiness in Dongmin’s voice. But before he had a chance to answer, Dongmin’s breathing evened out, and he fell back into another fitful sleep. Donghwi slumped back down in his chair like a marionette with its strings cut, and he looked over to Bin, eyes dead once again.

“And now we wait for him to wake up, and to do this all again.”

The days passed, and they did. It was horrible — an awful cycle that Bin could not bring himself to wish to break, because there was only one way for it to break now, and it was not an option he could bear to entertain. He knew he was being selfish, wishing for Dongmin to stay alive for as long as he could.

Dongmin himself had murmured that he was tired of living in constant pain during one of his many moments of unawareness, when the pain became so overwhelming he didn’t even realize there were other people in the room. His skin was like that of a paper doll, veins visible through the skin. His cheeks were sunken. His wrists were nearly small enough for Bin to wrap his fingers around and touch them together, thumb to middle finger.

One night, as the stars shone brightly outside the window, Dongmin woke up, looking just the slightest bit more awake than he had in days. Donghwi slept, head lolled back against his chair, but Bin was wide awake when Dongmin said,

“Bin, I feel much stronger than I have in days. Will you help me go see the stars one last time?” Dongmin’s eyes were deep black, the stars reflected in their depths as he looked to Bin, pleading. Even though Bin should tell Dongmin to conserve his strength, to use it to get better, the words turned to dust on his tongue. That would be selfish. Bin knew Dongmin wouldn’t live, regardless of whether or not he conserved his strength, and Dongmin wanted to use this energy to go and see the stars.

“Okay.”

He carried Dongmin out onto the back patio. He brought the duvet with him and wrapped it around Dongmin’s shoulders as he breathed in the night air, sighing with contentment. Despite the duvet, he shivered.

“Are you cold? Do you need any more blankets or anything?” Bin fussed over him, pulling the duvet tighter, but Dongmin only chuckled quietly.

“No, Bin. I’m okay.” Silence fell for a long moment. Bin turned to look at Dongmin. He looked beautiful, even now when he was so sick, his eyes cast upwards to the stars and filled with wonder. Dongmin sighed, letting them fall to his lap. “I’m always cold, these days. I think it’s a side effect of the Hanahaki, even though none of the resources I could find mentioned anything about it.”

“Well, to be fair,” Bin said, trying to stay lighthearted, “It’s not exactly the common cold.”

To his relief, Dongmin snorted weakly. “True enough.” Silence fell for another moment, but then Dongmin blurted, “I think it’s because I’m longing for his body warmth. My soulmate’s, that is. The cold always comes along with a deep sense of longing.” He glanced over at Bin and smiled. “Write this down,” he joked. “Maybe it can help with future Hanahaki research.”

Bin just rolled his eyes, heart aching, and looked back to the stars. He saw Dongmin join him a moment later, out of the corner of his eye, his gaze shifting away from Bin and upwards again. 

“I’m sorry for all of this,” Bin shook his head. “You don’t deserve any of it, Minnie.”

“I don’t think anyone does,” Dongmin remarked dryly. 

“You know what I mean.” As Bin looked up at the stars, endless and infinite, he had an idea. “Hey, Minnie?”

“Yeah?”

“If I held you, do you think it would help the chill?”

A long silence.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you’re missing his body warmth. I know I can’t replace him, but maybe I can make it a little bit better?”

Another long silence, and finally Dongmin whispered, “Okay.”

Bin came closer and wrapped his arms around Dongmin. They watched the stars together. Dongmin’s head leaned against Bin’s shoulder, Bin’s arm around his waist, and before long, Bin heard his breathing even out once more. 

He carried Dongmin back inside, laying him on his bed. He was going to return to his seat at his bedside, but the moment he began to distance himself, Dongmin’s skin, slightly warm for the first time since Bin had arrived, rapidly began losing its heat, and Dongmin shivered again. Horrified, Bin climbed into bed beside Dongmin, wrapping his arms around him.

Dongmin snuffled in his sleep, a small contented noise, turning his nose into Bin’s neck. His skin was already starting to warm up, and Bin himself drifted off to sleep, able to rest knowing that Dongmin was safe in his arms.

When Donghwi woke up many hours later to the late morning sun streaming in through the window, he was surprised to see Dongmin still perfectly asleep, breathing deeper than he had in days. Beside him in the bed was Moon Bin, arms wrapped around his brother, face buried in his hair. 

Donghwi sighed. “Oh, Dongmin hyung,” he whispered, tears stinging as they sprung into his eyes. “Why didn’t you ever _tell him. ”_

* * *

The next few days were the most promising. The extra warmth seemed to have given Dongmin a bit more strength, and he was able to sit up in bed and have full conversations with Donghwi and Bin, who no longer left Dongmin’s side, determined to keep him warm even as he slept. 

They had a few laughs together. They talked. Finally, Dongmin told them he felt better about the way things were ending. He told them again and again not to cry, to promise to live happy lives without him, and Donghwi and Bin lied and said they would. 

Bin knew he should tell Dongmin what he had come to say. He was running out of time. But telling Dongmin felt like admitting that Dongmin was on the brink of death, and for the first time in weeks, Bin felt hopeful. Dongmin was sitting up, talking, regaining strength. He was still too weak to walk much by himself or sleep for too long, but things were better. They _were_. 

The end came unexpectedly, early one Saturday morning. 

They had left the window open the night before at Dongmin’s request. The morning dew had settled on the windowsill, and the early morning breeze drifted through the window, disturbing the curtains. The light struggled weakly into the room, slanting across their faces. Bin woke up to the sound of the songbirds outside, chirping from the branches of the tree in Dongmin’s backyard. He felt warm, content as he slowly returned to consciousness. 

Dongmin lay pressed against his side as he always did these days. Bin allowed himself to bask in the moment, Donghwi asleep just across the hall, Dongmin safe and sound in his arms, the birds singing, the sky blue. 

And then he realized that Dongmin wasn’t breathing.

The light rushed out of the room as all of Bin’s senses focused on Dongmin, who lay unmoving, chest still. 

Panicking, Bin barely managed to remember the protocol. He opened Dongmin’s mouth and reached down to the back of his throat. His mouth was full of petals, all slick with blood, and as Bin desperately pulled them from his mouth, and cried out for Donghwi. 

The door slammed open, but Bin didn’t register it. Dongmin’s blood was splattered all over the sheets, dripping from Bin’s fingers as he scraped all the petals he could reach out of Dongmin’s mouth, trying desperately to clear his airways. Donghwi shoved Bin aside, starting chest compressions. Bin hovered by Dongmin’s side, vision blurred by tears, heart breaking in his chest. It couldn’t end here. He had never told him.

But maybe… maybe he had managed to show him? Showing up here, the night spent under the stars, all the whispered late-night conversations, the unexpected lighthearted jokes. Surely Dongmin had to know. Bin was transparent in his feelings, he hoped, even if he hadn’t said the words.

Donghwi was still performing the chest compressions, but Dongmin didn’t move, eyes shut and body limp. He finished two, three, four cycles. _Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths. Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths. Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths._

Dongmin remained motionless. 

“Hyung.” Donghwi was beginning to tire, sweat dripping from his brow at the exertion. His voice was rasped, punctuated by catch breaths as he continued compressions. “Don’t you _dare_ die on me.”

“Dongmin!” Bin couldn’t keep it together any longer. Once again, he was watching helplessly, desperately, and if Dongmin was about to die, he had to tell him the truth. “Minnie! Listen to me!” Bin threw himself forward to kneel at the side of the bed, careful not to disturb Donghwi, and took Dongmin’s hand in his own. 

“I haven't always been kind to you, Minnie,” Bin began. “I didn’t understand myself, and I got a girlfriend when I already knew I didn’t love her, and I was tactless and unfair and blind to your feelings. I was selfish, and I’m _still_ selfish, because I refuse to let you die without being honest with you, Minnie. That’s why I came all the way out here.” Bin’s vision was blurry, Donghwi fading away as he looked into Dongmin’s face, willing him to hear, praying that he wasn’t too far gone. “Eunwoo. Dongmin. _Minnie_.”

Bin squeezed Dongmin’s hand tight, and prayed that Dongmin wouldn’t let go.

“Dongmin, you know I love you, don’t you?”

Bin’s chest flooded with warmth. A connection, burning bold and bright and ragged, so painful that if Bin hadn’t already been kneeling, he would have been knocked over. 

_A frayed, damaged, but finally completed soul bond._

Dongmin’s eyes opened, and he took a breath. 

* * *

Dongmin sat upright in bed, thin fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. The bedsheets pooled across his lap, his knees pulled up to his chest. Sunlight shone through the window, pale and cold, and he could hear the distant sound of the wind chime that hung on the backyard patio.

Across from him, Bin sat slumped in the extra chair, pulled as close to the side of the bed as possible. His hair was full of frizz, only made worse by damage from the constant dyeing. His eyes were sunken and tired, but full of more light than there had ever been.

Bin cleared his throat. “We should talk.”

“Yes, I think we should. There’s a lot to clear up.”

There was silence, and then Bin spoke again. “I meant it, you know.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Bin shifted forward, crossing one leg over the other. “There’s a lot I haven’t told you that I should have, Minnie.”

“The same goes for me.” The breeze blew in through the window, the tinkling of the wind chime accompanying Bin’s soft, ringing laugh. 

“It seems we aren’t exactly poster children for healthy communication.”

Dongmin took a wry sip of his coffee. “Certainly not.”

“I’m sorry for everything, Minnie. Really, I mean it.”

“It’s alright. I’m sorry, too.”

“No, don’t let me off so easily.” Bin shook his head, a melancholy smile spreading across his face. “I may have had reasons for acting the way I did, but they’re only explanations. They’re not excuses. I hurt you, Minnie, intentionally or not. That’s why I’m apologizing. You deserve a real apology.”

Dongmin felt his chest tighten, but with something entirely unrelated to flora of any kind. “Thank you for your apology, Bin. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more open with you. I had reasons, but you put it beautifully. An explanation is not an excuse.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bin hastened to reassure him.

“None of that,” Dongmin said, gently but firmly. “We haven’t fully talked it out yet. We’ve both hurt one another, and we both owe one another an apology so that we can start over. Can you agree to that?”

Bin sighed. “I really can’t. I still think I’m more at fault here, and you’re taking way too much blame onto yourself.”

“I suppose I can’t change your opinion. We’ll talk it out in therapy. Because trust me, we’re getting that.” Bin smiled at him, bright and blooming and warm. 

“Good. I care about you too much not to work this all through,” Bin said honestly. 

For a long moment, they stopped talking in favor of comfortable silence, and then Bin reached out to take Dongmin’s hand.

“Dongmin,” Bin said, affection and sincerity dripping from the words like honey. “You know I love you, don’t you?” 

Dongmin remembered Bin’s honest confession, given freely. The soul bond thrummed in its place connected to his heart, warm and full of life, heavy and comfortable in his chest. Dongmin smiled. The hard conversations could wait for just a little while longer. They were going to be okay.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow.
> 
> It's really over, everyone!! I thought I'd release this final chapter early as a massive thank u to everyone who has been reading. Thank you all so much for reading this, and for leaving such lovely comments all along the way. You guys have really been such awesome readers and it means the world!!
> 
> This fic was started nearly three years ago now,and it's just crazy that it's out in the world, all done. Thank you for giving this fic a chance, and thank you for leaving kudos and comments (and i hope you'll indulge me one more time and give me some final thoughts on the fic, if you'd like!!!)
> 
> Some final disclaimers!
> 
> 1\. Please do not reupload this work or translate it without my consent! 
> 
> 2\. The behavior of the characters in this fic is not meant to mimic a 100% healthy relationship! Yes, they're on a path towards healing, but like Eunwoo and Bin said! They're not exactly poster children for healthy communication!!
> 
> 3\. On a similar/related note, I do not believe that the people these characters are based on would act like this in real life. They are characters, and not a reflection of the people they're based on.
> 
> 4\. A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO MY BETA, MEL (@Tinywriterfairy both here and on twt) for editing this. Check out her fics as well she's amazing!!!
> 
> 5\. Finally, thank you all for reading!!! Leave some kudos and comments if u liked, and you can always find me on twt @sanhascroissant as well <33
> 
> Love for one last time,  
> Robin


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